Heirs of Honor
by Dark Seroph
Summary: While The Wardens struggle to save the world, the people of Ferelden struggle just to make ends meet in a land that is torn by power-hungry leaders grasping at desperate straws and ravaged by an ancient horror that is best left in stories. In the chaos, three people who were never supposed to survive band together to make sense of their new world for vengeance, freedom and liberty.
1. Origin

All was white that morning over the banks of Lake Calenhad, heavy fog lying thick in the undergrowth and between the trees. Everything was still in the early dawn light, sound muffled by the hazy mists until it was dead quiet all around. It smelled of damp and rot and fish, but it also smelled of freedom.

Something moved in the mists, a cloaked figure appearing from the depths of the forest to walk along the bank of the lake. The gentle lapping of the water on the shore guided her steps, the face inside the deeply shadowed cowl alert and always searching her surroundings. A predator on the hunt, or perhaps prey on the run. She was ready for anything; the staff in her hand looking to be no more than a walking stick of mediocre craft but in the hands of a mage was so much more. No, not a mage. Apostate.

Despite the ugly color the Chantry had painted the word, she rather liked the ring of it. Apostate. Fled from the Circle. Object of fear for the majority of the citizenry. A Templar's greatest fear and most hated thing. Utterly free.

Though weary from traveling for a day and a night in her flight from the Circle, mud splattered from running and wet up to her thighs from trying to lose the Templars by taking a detour in the river, she couldn't help but to smile. Mages were an oddity, feared, hated, and respected in equal measure. Yet for all of their powers, they had been corralled as a whole into a giant stone fortress, cooped up with anti-magic-warding meatheads and had their wings clipped lest they have any notion of freedom.

But she was no pretty canary to be gawked at through gilded bars. For the first time in her life she had done something truly significant because she wanted to and without any sort of supervision. She left her tethers behind and was in the process of learning what it was like to truly fly.

Freedom had been scary at first. Full of too many unknowns and too many uncertainties. Leaving the Circle had been unavoidable. Jowan had provided the perfect means of letting them escape, his surprising display of blood magic knocking the Templars that had confronted them clean off their feet. She really only had two choices at that point: stay and face the wrath of the First Enchanter and Knight Commander for helping a blood mage destroy his phylactery, or flee with the fugitive and become one herself.

Getting across the lake was tricky business, seeing as Templars were patrolling the docks. But between a blood mage and a fully harrowed mage, the two managed to convince the Templars that there was no need for them to draw their swords as the two calmly made their escape. Afterwards, she had made sure to send a fireball across the lake and destroy any boats within range.

That had kept them off her tail for a little bit, but by now she was sure that word had been sent about her escape to Denerim. No doubt any day now they would go and unlock her phylactery from whatever Maker be damned vault they kept it in to track her down with. That was the final fetter that kept her chained to her past life. One vial of blood stood between her and not having to look over her shoulder all the time. One tiny vial of blood…

Once the Circle Templars retreated she would go to Denerim and try and destroy the thing herself. Then hop on the first boat out of Ferelden and be done with it all.

•º•.•º•

Memories were fuzzy and painful to recall, so he tried not to anymore. Not to think, only to act. His goal was to lose himself in doing, lest he lose himself in remembering.

Fleeing from Cousland Castle had been the hardest thing he'd ever done. All in a rush of fire and blood the place that had defined him went up in smoke. He could still smell the acrid stench of burning bodies, could hear the clash of swords and the screams of men as they died. Every time he closed his eyes to sleep the ashen face of his father loomed up at him out of the Void. Pleading with him, telling him to run as dark crimson blood pooled around his body.

A familiar weight settled into his lap and absently he dropped a hand onto the broad Mabari head that had settled itself on his leg. "Good boy Keran." He murmured, the dog whining worriedly, his brown eyes focused on the face of his master. The dog could sense his pain and intuitively wanted to comfort him as best a dog could. At least something good of his past had lived on past that bloody night.

Aedan Cousland supposed that he was the sole heir to his father's title of Teyrn and everything that went with it. But titles meant very little when there were no men left to fight for your name, which was precisely the predicament he was in. A handful of soldiers had come with him during his escape from the castle, but they had all fallen in time. Howe's men had been prowling all over the place looking for refugees around the forests and hills of Highever. They hadn't escaped without a fight. The last one had succumbed to his mortal wounds just a day after the initial flight, leaving Aedan by himself with his own copious amount of wounds.

The men he had lost fought bravely along side him, and he honored their memory by staying alive and swearing revenge against the man who'd done this to him. After three days of running with snatched hours of rest in between he had to stop. Or rather, he practically collapsed from battle weariness and the score of injuries that had been inflicted despite his armor. Keran had watched over him as his master succumbed to a fever and spent a handful of nights stranded in the woods before some farmer's children had found him.

They knew him from his armor; the Cousland crest on his shield was well known where the Teyrn had ruled. They thought him a soldier of the castle. He kept letting them think that. If the Arl's men came looking for him, he didn't have a doubt in his mind that they would slaughter these innocents upon finding out that they had harbored the former Teyrn's son quite by accident.

As soon as he was able, he left them and kept heading South toward Ostagar in hopes that he could get there before any assassins or like-minded ilk found his brother. By the time he got to Redcliffe, the word of the tragedy that befell their King at the hands of the Grey Wardens had reach the ears of everyone that frequented a tavern. He knew the Fergus would be standing close by the king. The Couslands always presented their hand in full with honor and nobility. Such was their way. There was to be no hope of trekking further south into the gaping maw of the Darkspawn horde to find his brother. Only more death waited for him there.

And so had Aedan become not only an orphan, but an only son as well.

Keran whined again at his master's distress and nudged his leg harder. Aedan scratched the dog behind the ears and finished what was left of the slightly warm ale he had ordered and looked up from his musings to observe the room. The tavern was a lot like any other, packed to the gills with common men and women in from a hard day. Smoke from pipes and candles gathered in the rafters that loomed overhead, the smell of old ale and the burning pipe weed the major dominating scents here. The place was well kept at least, the barkeep a large man who looked like he could handle keeping order by himself without the need to call the city guards.

It was a balmy evening and men were coming in by the droves now to share the woes of the day. The darker it got outside, the louder it got inside. A bard was present tonight, and the crowd cheered loudly when he pulled out his instrument and started up with a lively tune. As soon as the first verse started, the patrons started banging their mugs on table tops or whatever other flat surface they could, singing along in a slightly off-pitch way that drunk tired people had a way to do.

Aedan was in no mood for it, content to sit back and watch the normalcy go on around him. He was just another traveler here, and nobody paid attention to the haggard looking man. Though barely an adult, he had the look of someone much older, a result no doubt from being road weary and world-weary. He was starting to grow something of a beard, the dark stubble coloring the hard set of his jaw. Curiously hollow eyes looked out at the world, a sullen combination of grey and blue that only seemed to further the look of melancholy that hung over his broad shoulders with excess. And he wasn't clean either, his studded leather armor flecked with dirt from the road and darker splashes of what was probably mud, which was probably the only thing that kept people from realizing that it was of a fine quality despite the dirt.

Watching the merry making going on before him, he had to wonder; had nobody heard of the fate of his family? This far south, did they even care? He supposed that Howe was keeping the whole thing quiet as he could given the nature of the attack. It was more or less a clean sweep after all, a skeleton guard caught unawares by a much larger force from inside their own keep posed little threat for the Arl's men. How long would it be until it became public knowledge, then? And when it did, would the treacherous Howe be punished for his actions, or rewarded for taking out one of the most powerful men in the country?

His thoughts were dragged out of their dark mire when he felt Keran stiffen slightly under his hand, the dog issuing a low warning growl that Aedan felt more than heard. Immediately he was on alert, looking around for signs of danger. Nothing immediately seemed out of place, there was no sudden influx of Howe's soldiers or some other tiding of bad things to come, and yet Keran continued to warn him. He looked down to the dog, saw that his eyes were locked onto something from his place under the table and followed the canine's gaze.

Someone seemed to have entered the tavern that he didn't like, though she certainly looked normal enough. Perhaps she was a minor noble or a sister of the Chantry, for she was far too pale to be a farmer's daughter. Brilliant blue eyes practically shone out from beneath the hood of her cloak, errant strands of brown and blonde hair falling around her face when she ducked her head to avoid meeting the eyes of others in the tavern. Another cursory glance over the woman's person had him re-thinking his assumption of minor noble or Chantry sister. She wasn't wearing the livery of any Chantry maiden he'd ever seen, and her clothes were spattered all around the bottom with mud and who only knew what else. Interestingly enough, he did see a corner of the pattern that often adorned things that Templars wore, a sword with the four leaves around it. _'Bit small and not quite intimidating enough to be a Templar.'_ He mused with a small smile to himself.

Keran quit his warning growl though didn't ease up any, keeping alarmingly alert with his gaze centered directly on the woman. Intrigued by his hound's curious response, Aedan ordered himself some food next time the waitress came around, planning on sticking around to see what precisely was going on. He didn't have to wait long.

Before the woman had even managed to finish the bread and cheese she had ordered things dissolved into chaos. The door to the tavern was suddenly slammed inwards, a handful of heavily armed men pouring in through the door with their swords bared. Keran stood and barked at them, his hackles raised and ready for a scuffle. Aedan restrained the Mabari with a hand on the hound's collar, on his feet as well and ready to jump into action if things got out of control. That's when he realized that they were bearing the emblem of the Templars, and the pieces clicked together. They were after _her_. And there was only one type of person that Templars went after.

"Remain calm!" The Templar in charge yelled over the clamor that had started when the Templars made their abrupt entrance. The man came forward from his fellows, hawk-like eyes set in a face of stone scanning the crowd with an intense searching gaze. "We have reason to believe that there is a dangerous apostate among you! Stay out of our way and no harm will come to you. Give the mage up!"

Silence reined as the Templars started to spread out, searching feverishly for their lost apostate. Aedan's gaze slipped to where the woman had been only to find that she had disappeared. No… not disappeared. Slowly but surely she was creeping away from where she had been at the bar, ducking behind the backs of people to avoid the gaze of the Templars and making her way in Aedan's general direction. A little belatedly he realized that the door to the kitchen was literally right next to him and she would have to creep right past in order to slip out the back and avoid the Templars. His gut reaction was to alert the armored men to her presence and be done with it. If they were looking for an apostate, he certainly wouldn't be the one to let her get away.

All those good intentions stopped however when she looked up. Their eyes met, brilliant blue to dull grey, and he felt something shoot through him. Probably magic, because he felt paralyzed and unable to move, his body frozen against his will. He watched silently as she walked past him, their eyes never breaking contact until she turned to open the door, and then he was free again.

"Hey!" Aedan yelled, following out the door after her as she ran for it, her cape billowing behind her as she ran at full tilt, knocking over a cascade of dishes as she went.

He jumped over the shards of broken pottery as he went, nearly skidding on the floor and banged out the back after her. Keran's barking and the disgruntled cries of the alerted Templars could be heard out the door behind him, and soon enough he could hear the rattle of the Templar's armor following in his wake.

Whatever he had assumed of her physical abilities before, he was quickly rethinking. Though considerably shorter than he was, the woman could run fast, her lithe form disappearing around corners just as he rounded them, chasing after her shadow in the dark of the night.

Aedan skidded around another corner and suddenly found himself ducking to avoid being hit in the head with a flying staff. He very nearly lost his balance and tried to get his sword unsheathed only to have something barrel into him and shove him fully against the wall.

The woman had pressed her staff to his neck, her hands glowing with magic and chest heaving frantically, those eyes of hers locked onto his own again though without the curious paralyzing effect this time around. She was scared out of her wits, her eyes huge on her face and looking terribly frightened, but there was resolve there too. "If you want to live, I suggest you be quiet." She hissed in a voice cold as winter, pressing her staff against his neck harder to emphasize her point.

Aedan raised his hands in a gesture of peace and remained still as she asked, listening to the street as the Templars ran past them in a hurry and several villagers followed in their wake. They spent another moment in silence; the mage woman pressed fully against him to keep him still, her breath still coming quickly. She gasped when Keran turned the corner, braced for battle and barking ferociously. "Call off your dog!" She whispered, drawing her gaze away from Aedan to look at the dog. "By the Maker, he's going to bring those damned Templars back!"

"I don't know, having them come back seems like a pretty good outcome for me." Aedan replied quickly before he could think about the response, not particularly liking being held up like this by a mage, woman or no.

She narrowed her eyes and the glowing of her hands increased in intensity. "I can make you wish you'd never been born."

The two stared each other down for a few seconds, then Aedan turned his head slightly. "Heel Keran." He said calmly, and the dog quit barking, though didn't relax his stance any. "Back down before the nice apostate mage kills me." That got him to quit growling all together. Smart dog.

The woman sighed in relief and took a step back, looking like a cornered rat deciding whether or not to fight or flee. "I'll have to knock you out." There was something like an apology in her voice as she said this in a trembling voice, raising her staff slightly. "I've been running from those Templars for days now, I'm not getting caught tonight. Sorry."

"Wait! Why are you running?" It seemed like such a dumb question in retrospect. What apostate mages _didn't_ run from Templars? But it was a knee jerk reaction. He had no love of magic, especially when it was being performed on him.

Apparently she was just as astonished by the dumb question as he was, because she paused with a profound look of confusion on her face. "Why wouldn't I run? If they catch me they'll kill me. Or make me Tranquil. Neither of which I'm willing to suffer because of you."

"You can't outrun them forever."

"Watch me." She narrowed her eyes. "You're stalling. I'm not going to kill you, you know. I may be an apostate, but I'm not some murdering Witch. Just calm down and think happy thoughts. It doesn't hurt." She raised her staff to cast again, and Keran got ready to pounce.

"They have ways to find you."

Apparently, she was finally frustrated enough to abandon trying to send him into a magical sleep. The butt of her staff cracked on the cobblestones, an exasperated look on her face. "Yes, you think I don't _know_ that? That somehow I'm not _excruciatingly_ aware that the Templars have been able to dog my every step _because_ they have a way to track me down unto the ends of the earth and beyond the threshold of eternity? If I could just get to Denerim I-"

"Denerim?" Aedan couldn't help interrupting her little rant, and immediately she shut up, looking very much like someone who had just said far more than they meant too. He wasn't paying that much mind at the moment, suddenly lost in his own thoughts. "I could take you to Denerim."

It was the mage's turn to be incredulous. "_What?_"

Yes, if he weren't the one saying it, he would have thought he was crazy too. But last he heard a certain Arl was prowling in Denerim, licking the boots of his newest master. If Aedan were to have revenge for his family, then it would be by taking the fight to Howe, not waiting for the man to track him down first. "A favor for a favor. We can hammer out the details later when the Templars aren't so hot on your heels. But it seems like you need my help, and I think that I'll need yours. Do we have an agreement?" He held out his hand, waiting to see if she'd take it or spell him asleep.

The mage woman spent a long moment looking at his offered hand, her brows scrunched up in concentration as she tried to puzzle out this latest oddity. Finally, she reached out and took his hand in a firm shake; power sparking from her hand when the contact was made. "You have a deal."

"I'm Aedan."

"Solona."

* * *

><p>Yeah, I know, I'm hopping on this bandwagon really late. Sorry. I've been wanting to make a Dragon Age: Origins fanfiction for a really long time, but I never had a good idea. Plus <em>everyone<em> had already done one about their warden so...

Now, before anybody starts complaining, here's the basis of this: I'm using the origins that are _*most likely*_ to survive their origins sequence.

**But Seroph! The Cousland estate is razed!** And yet with Duncan's help you can still escape. I simply replaced Duncan with a hand full of wall guards and a mean mommy that saw her son out the door with a little more force than what we see if Duncan is present.

**But Seroph! The Circle would never let a rogue mage across the lake!** And yet Jowan ends up in Redcliffe castle. After Jowan mind-blew everyone with blood magic, the future-warden-mage just stands there like an idiot and watched him escape. Dude, if it were me, I'd run for it with him, blood mage or no. There's no saving face after that. If you decided to help Irving it would make sense that you'd stay, but if you didn't then running for the hills is a logical choice.

**But Seroph! Why didn't you save *insert X-warden here* instead?**

_Here's the scoop of it:_ I just didn't feel like having a Mage-Elf escaping the tower. Might get mentioned by Solona when we meet mystery 3rd character later, but really... I just like the Mage/Human better because of ties to DA2. Dalish Elf warden ****WOULD DIE**** if Duncan didn't come around. There's no debate about it. He/she being infected from the taint would either keel over and die in the woods or else become a ghoul and then be a pincushion for target practice. The City-Elf origin would get locked up and probably executed. Male or Female, doesn't matter. Without Duncan's weapons, it would take the elven rebellion to set them free if they hadn't been killed by that point. Duncan is absolutely essential to survival.

Noble-Dwarf would _probably_ die in the deep roads trying to either A) get to the surface or B) reach the Dead Trenches. With no weapon, no armor, and probably no shoes, he/she's not making it very far when wading through darkspawn and corrupted spiders. Commoner-Dwarf is likewise S.O.L., and we all know that if you aren't Commoner-Dwarf origin, then what is likely the body of what would have been the Commoner-Dwarf is in a cell rotting. For both of them, it is remotely possible that they could survive, escape, or whatever, but more likely than not, Duncan is essential to survival.

However, there _does_ need to be a Warden, because as we all know, Alistair can't lead the group to lunch if left to his own devices. So, one of these origins WILL pop up later on in the story as a warden. Another of the origins will make an appearance as well, because of mystery 3rd character there, so I'll leave you to figure it out.


	2. The Deal

Castle Redcliffe stood as a dark silhouette against the morning sky, pricks of firelight showing through the blackness from torches or candlelight within the castle and on the ramparts. Keran kept a watchful eye over the campsite while the two fugitives slept, though Aedan was stirring with the early dawn.

It took him a moment to remember who was curled up next to the near dead fire, the Solona woman wrapped so tightly in her cloak that she looked more like a cocoon than a real person. She had offered to take the first watch last night despite the dark bags under her eyes from being weary and sleepless, but when Aedan had assured her that Keran would do a fine job of it by himself she had gone to sleep without protest. For a little while she had tried to stay awake, watching Aedan like a mouse watches a cat, but her own weariness finally overcame her. She'd dropped off to sleep and hadn't so much as twitched for the rest of the night.

It would have been so easy to turn her over to the Templars at this point. The musing came and went, and Aedan started digging through his travel pack for breakfast, tossing Keran a strip of meat and thanking the war dog for his vigilance. Keran simply huffed and dug into his food, needing no thanks for protecting his master.

The two ate in silence for a while, the sun finally peaking up over the horizon before he decided that it was high time to wake the mage woman up. It took a bit of shaking to finally get her to open her eyes, and the moment that Solona got a look at his face she went into a panic. In a flurry of movement she had unwrapped herself from her cloak and grabbed her staff, working some spell or another with fear in her eyes.

"Woa! Calm down!" Aedan held up his hands to show that he was weaponless, backing off a few steps.

She stared at him for a bit before realizing what just happened, all the magic seeming to simply slide off of her. With a heavy sigh she dropped her head into her palm and let her staff rest on the ground again. "Sorry, you startled me. I forgot that I had an ally."

Aedan shrugged, going back to his things and started packing up. "No harm done, but we should probably get moving. We've Templars to avoid." Solona ate in silence and helped him bank the fire before the two set off, Aedan leading the way toward the Imperial Highway.

They traveled in silence for a long time, the woods disappearing in favor of a broad road that cut through the southern half of Ferelden. It was a wide dirt road big enough to fit a few carriages riding abreast of one another. This early in the morning only a few foot travelers were out and about traversing the Imperial Highway, but there was quite a few more traders with their carts and mules already about.

Solona was content with the silence for a while, glad to be putting distance between herself and her last little scuffle with the Templars. However, she didn't stay content for long, twisting the signet ring on her finger bearing the mark of the Circle of mages, a last gift from First Enchanter Irving after her succeeded Harrowing. "So, what is it that you're so desperate to do that you'd help an apostate flee from Templars?" She pinned his back with a curious glare. Aedan didn't even have to look over his shoulder to guess the sort of look that she was giving him.

He breathed a sigh, wondering how best to explain the situation without telling her who he was exactly. "Just how good are you with your magic?"

"Good enough I suppose. I passed my Harrowing with little trouble. But you're not answering my question." Astute, this one.

"Well, I've got something of an assassination to do, I suppose." Aedan waited for Solona to recoil in horror, and wasn't disappointed when she gasped, quickening her steps so that she could look directly at him instead of at his back.

"You're _what?_" She hissed with her eyes narrowed dangerously, staff clutched to her chest.

"Look, it's not like I'm doing this for giggles or to get paid." Aedan replied with something like exasperation in his voice. "There's an Arl, he… Well, he's getting what's coming to him. He had his men kill my family. I managed to escape, but only just barely. I don't know if you can understand the sort of treachery that happened that night…" His voice was shaking with barely controlled rage, his fists clenched until the knuckles turned white. Aedan felt a hand on his forearm and looked down to see Solona looking up at him with sad eyes.

"If it's to help you avenge your family, then I'll help." She mumbled and let her hand drop, content to walk at his side for a little longer in a shared silence. "Besides, murdering an Arl is probably on the same scale of illegality as what I would have you do as a return favor." Her statement was met with a curiously raised eyebrow, and after taking a deep breath, Solona continued. "I need to find and destroy my phylactery."

Aedan didn't immediately react, continuing to look down at the small mage woman with a look of curiosity in his gaze. "Your what?"

An aggravated sigh escaped her at the question and she raised a hand to her head, pressing her palm against her temple. "I forgot that not everyone knows about the phylacteries…" Solona let her head drop back, looking up at the cerulean skies that stretched endlessly overhead, gathering her thoughts. "Okay… So, any mage brought into the circle has their blood drawn and stored in a magical vial. Not a whole lot of course, but just enough to make use of. The vials are enchanted so that the blood never ages or dries and remains pure forever, or so long as the bottles are kept sealed. These are the phylacteries, a small piece of the mage that they were taken from, and the way in which a Templar finds someone who defects from the circle. Ironically enough, it's a bit of blood magic that the Templars do to use the phylacteries. They take the vials of the escaped mage and by using the blood, they can find out where the mage has gone. Blood calls to blood, and by following the pull, they track down who they're looking for. It's not an exact method, but it works well enough that mages who escape the Circle don't stay free for very long.

"All apprentice phylacteries are kept in a secret room in the Circle's basement cellars. However, after you've gone through the Harrowing and become a full mage, they send your Phylactery to somewhere in Denerim. The Chantry I'd presume, but who knows? The Templars may have constructed an anti-mage hide out for all I know and stored it there." Solona sighed, as if for the first time realizing just how difficult it would be to find her phylactery. Hopefully, the Templars would bring it out of whatever storage shed they had it in to try and track her down with it and she wouldn't have to find where it was stored… but that might be hoping too much. They seemed to have had an easy enough time finding her so far. "Do you understand now? You'd be helping me shrug off all of the Circle's chains. The Templars wouldn't be able to hunt me down at will. If the Chantry ever found out, they would probably execute you."

Aedan snorted, a grin creeping onto his haggard face. "And you think that they wouldn't execute me for planning to murder an Arl?" He asked, a dangerous look in his grey eyes. It was the kind of look that soldiers got sometimes when they were on the frontlines, knowing that death was in front of them and retreat had never been an option. "Adding another sentence to that is really just icing on the cake."

Tense silence stretched between them for a moment, then Solona finally nodded, drawing a breath to speak. "Then we have a deal. I'll help you kill your Arl, and you'll help me destroy my phylactery."

"Aye. We've a deal."

**-0-0-0-**

That night they put down a little ways from the Highway, taking shelter under some trees that protected from prying eyes and weather. They weren't the only travelers who had decided to bed down for the night, the sound of a large caravan could be heard some distance away through the trees. Once they had gotten away from Redcliffe, they had begun to see less and less in the way of Templars, a relief to both Aedan and Solona. It seemed that whoever was in possession of her phylactery at the moment wasn't in the immediate vicinity, for they hadn't had any more unfortunate meetings.

Solona had started up a cheery little fire with a wave of her hand, leaving it up to Aedan to collect wood to keep it going, Keran patrolling the ring of light until he was content that there was no outstanding danger. The big dog settled down next to the fire, his intelligent eyes on the forest around them, ears perking up every so often when he heard something of interest.

They had just finished eating when a thought occurred to Aedan, and he couldn't pass up the chance to ask it. "How much do you know about combat?"

Solona looked up from her corner of bread, swallowed, and contemplated for a moment. "I know some about fighting other mages, more about resisting the temptation of demons."

"And against blades?"

Solona shrugged, glancing at her staff. "We're not really taught how to defend from a direct attack from somebody not using magic or mental suggestion." She replied easily, though Aedan noted with some interest that it wasn't without a tinge of bitterness. "I suppose that the Templars don't want us knowing how to fend them off if they decide they don't like us one day."

"Or become apostate." Aedan added, to which the mage only shrugged and continued eating, apparently unbothered with facts that she couldn't change. "I should probably teach you, then."

She stopped eating then, looking up at him with an intense curiosity with a healthy dose of incredulity. "And just how do you plan on doing that?"

"Well, you've got a staff. I'll grab a hearty looking stick and take some whacks at you." Aedan couldn't help but to smile at the thought of sparring with a mage. It was an interesting situation, to say the least. Solona was looking at him like he was crazy. Maybe he was. Grief had the tendency to drive even the sanest of men a little mad in their weaker moments. "What if some Templars get the jump on you? Cancel out your magic. Then what? You plan on rolling over and dying?"

"No." She replied quickly, not even having to think about her choice. "I'd run, or else fight to the bitter end."

Aedan nodded, expecting as much of an answer from her. "Then I suppose you'd better learn how to fight to the bitter end, huh?" He got to his feet, patting off grass and dirt as he did so and gestured for Solona to rise. "Up now. Grab your staff and pretend that I'm a Templar that wants you dead and just took away all of your magic."

Solona studied him for a bit, probably expecting him to suddenly sprout a second head or something. When he didn't reveal that it was part of an elaborate joke, she got to her feet as well and stood a few feet in front of Aedan, her staff resting with the butt on the ground to her side.

Sighing, Aedan looked around for a stick, found one perhaps a little shorter than the sword that he normally used, Solona watching his every move. He turned, walked to the side that she wasn't holding the staff on and whapped her in the shoulder with the stick.

The mage squeaked out a cry of surprise and pain, and took a step back. "What was that for?"

"If that were a real sword, you wouldn't have an arm anymore." Aedan replied calmly, tapping the stick against his thigh with a bored expression on his face. "Now come on, is this how you face down Templars? Show me your battle face. And remember, no magic or I'll have Keran tackle you for it. Fair?" Hearing his name, the Mabari perked up and barked once, wagging his stubby tail in agreement.

"Not fair, but I don't see how I can stop you." Solona mumbled, gripping her staff with both hands, a deeply set frown on her face now. She was probably standing in whatever pose the mages had taught her to take when casting. Feet set narrowly apart, slightly hunched over and only really holding the staff with one hand.

If Aedan wanted to, he could probably push her over no problem with his shield. Taking it off his back, he did just that, taking a few running steps forward and shoved his shield against Solona's staff. She recoiled, nearly loosing her staff and her balance and suddenly found Aedan's stick planted firmly against her neck. "And now you're missing an arm _and_ your head. You're doing very poorly, Solona."

Color stained her pale cheeks, her anger immediately surfacing and energy crackled around her. "It's not like I know what I'm doing!" She shouted, irritation carved into every muscle. "You wouldn't be so cocky if I threw a lightning bolt at you."

"And you wouldn't be so sure that I'd _care_ that you threw a lightning bolt at me if I were a real Templar." He replied quickly, taking a step back incase she _did_ decide to make good on the threat, though remained outwardly calm. He heaved a sigh, replacing his shield on his back and tossed the stick aside. "Looks like we're going to have to take this from step one."

Solona watched with suspicious eyes as he walked closer, coming around behind her. She tried to turn and face him, but found his arms around on either side of her, hands on her staff. "What are you _doing_?" She went to elbow him in the ribs, forgetting that he was still wearing his armor and came away with a bruised elbow for the effort.

"Showing you how to use this thing." Aedan replied calmly. "Grab your blasted stick if you want to learn."

"Yes, but why do you have to be so _close?_" She hissed, grabbing onto her staff like he asked but had gone rigid, every muscle tense. He smelled like dirt and dogs and leather. "Can't you train me without invading my personal space?"

"It's just easier this way." He replied with a hint of annoyance starting to creep in. "Now quiet and pay attention." Unhappily, Solona complied, looking straight ahead with a steely gaze as Aeden guided her through a few movements, explaining each step along the way.

It brought him back years, back when he was too little to properly hold a sword. His father would stand behind him just like this, tell Aedan to put his hand on the hilt and pay attention. At the time he hadn't thought much of it, but looking back now he cherished the memory fondly and it brought a pain to his heart to recall the nostalgia. What would Ser Gilmore do if he had lived through the raid? Would he approve of Aedan's quest for blood? Or would he implore that Aedan do the political thing and try to plead his case to the Landsmeet? Trying to call a gathering of the Banns seemed akin to suicide at this point, however. He assumed that Howe thought he was dead, caught up in the bloodbath in Highever. Any attempt to claim his right as the sole surviving Cousland heir would probably end with a knife to the back. If not by Howe's doing, then by anyone that supported the man's actions.

He cut off his musings abruptly, helping Solona through the moves until she took the lead then detached himself, standing back. "Continue doing that. I… I will get more firewood."

Solona watched him go with a concerned frown, her blue eyes flicking to the pile of firewood that he'd already gathered for the night. Keran stood, following his master into the dark, and the two quickly disappeared from view. After a few minuets of silence she resumed her staff work, her mind working faster than her hands as she moved the staff from side to side in broad sweeping arcs. '_Aedan… what demons haunt you?'_

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> I've been playing through DA: Origins again as my m!Amell, and just completed the Broken Circle quest (again). I was looking through my notes that I'd randomly picked up on the quest and found one called "Extracurricular Studies" (if you're really curious about it, then go to the DragonAge wiki), a conversation between First Enchanter Sinclair and Enchanter Bergin. In it, Bergin was complaining over the fact that though the mages at his Circle (I don't know if Sinclair was First Enchanter before Irving was or from a different Circle) were great at magic, one of his apprentices was probably killed by an ordinary thug/bandit because they didn't know how to defend themselves from regular weapons. In the next notice from Sinclair, it seems that Bergin was able to hold classes on weapons training for a short time before the Templars moved into the tower permanently, and Bergin's class was indefinitely cancelled. So, at the very least, my theory that the Templars didn't want mages learning how to defend themselves from regular swords appears to be cannon for whatever Circle Sinclair and Bergin are from, though you have to read between the lines a bit.


	3. Encounters

Until that day, the Blight had been a thing of history. It was something to talk about and compare bad things to in moment of frustration. His family hadn't believed that it was a true Blight, but an uprising of darkspwan that could be put down with an aptly applied amount of force. Worry had been present of course. They hadn't seen this sort of darkspwan behavior in generations, and that was certainly cause for concern, but that served as little to prepare Aedan for what he saw as they came closer to Lothering.

It was as if the sun decided not to shine on this section of the world, clouds blanketing the sky and turning everything an ashy color. Dead animals and people littered the sides of the roads, the stink of corpses rising and fouling the air. People with dead looks in their eyes walked these roads, stragglers that had waited too long to flee from Lothering, or perhaps had thought that there was nowhere else to go. Funny how a rampaging horde of mindless killing beasts changed people's minds.

They heard stories as they walked from those that would speak of the horrors that they saw in Lothering. More than once they bore witness as someone died as the Taint or other illnesses took them. Solona had gone very pale in the face of such death, her blue eyes seeming to take up the majority of her face as she looked around at all of the suffering present on this road. Aedan simply looked ahead, his eyes glossing over the death that surrounded them. He felt numb to the effects that Solona was suffering from, having seen mass death with his own eyes already, had participated in adding more bodies to the pile wrought of treachery.

He wanted to get far away from this stretch of road as he could before night fell. It wouldn't do at all to be caught directly in the path of the growing Horde, and Solona seemed to be of the same mind, walking a little faster than she normally did. They had just barely passed the turnoff to head toward Lothering when they finally came across the darkspwan.

Their appearance started off as a scream and the startled cry of frightened mules. Panic broke out in those that they had been traveling with as part of the shuffling mass of refugees, more screams erupting all around as people simply picked up and started running. They were harried from every side, pushed by bodies too terrified for manners and were swept along with the tide.

"Aedan!" Solona called, getting separated from his side by the mass of shoving people fleeing for their lives. Keran barked a warning, sticking close to his master's side in the press of bodies, nipping at ankles as they passed by his face.

Then the darkspwan caught up.

Legend had it that the darkspwan were human once, magisters from the glory days of the Tevinter Imperium who had tried to touch the face of the Maker and failed. They resembled no humans now. They were warped and twisted beings, their skin an ugly combination of grey and green. Their flesh seemed to be decaying around them even as they breathed and fought, black blood dripping from open festering wounds, lips pulled back to reveal a skeletal smile, lidless eyes that revealed only a need to destroy and maim. Half were the size of humans, the Hurlocks, the other half looking more closely resembled to dwarves, the Genlocks. With weapons lifted and blood stained armor clattering, they seemed to rush from everywhere in their mad need to kill.

A handful of the creatures tore through any who weren't fast enough to escape their grip, bringing with them the stench of death and decay. A few men stopped running and turned to face the threat in an effort to save their families, but were cut down quickly.

"Maker preserve us." Aedan breathed, turning toward the threat. Solona was closer to the band of darkspwan than he was, left behind by the fleeing citizens. Already she was casting a spell, light gathering around her as she weaved the magic until a fireball sprung to life from seemingly thin air. She flung it at the charging line of darkspwan and those that didn't scatter were thrown from their feet, their bodies alight with fire. They screamed in rage and pain, and those that weren't on the ground charged at the lone mage.

Keran barked and ran ahead of his master, Aedan unsheathing his sword and pulling his shield over his arm as he ran to Solona's side. An arc of ice flew out in front of her, freezing the closest darkspwan solid. Close on the heels of the spell, Aedan lashed out with his shield, ramming it into the chest of the nearest darkspwan who simply shattered to pieces and scattered across the road. He stabbed one of the shorter ones clean through the chest and another lost its head to his blade, crunching wetly when it hit the ground.

Those that hadn't been felled in the initial wave ran around the ice, and Solona cried out when one got a little too close for comfort, spitting and hissing in battle rage. Fire left her fingertips in a searing wave and the Darkspwan recoiled from the heat, a couple of them having been lit on fire. One managed to avoid the flames however and came at the mage swinging, scoring a hit on her arm with its notched blade, and wrenching a scream of pain from Solona. She jumped into action, swinging her staff and it collided with the darkspwan's head, felling the creature. A burst of magic left her staff, and the creature's head simply seemed to explode from the power.

Aedan was splattered with dark blood, his sword absolutely covered with the stuff and his shield bearing a few new dents and scratches from blocking swords and bashing in heads. Keran had felled a few darkspawn at his side, attacking from the ankles and dragging a few to the ground where they were easily dispatched by Aedan's sword. The darkspawn quit coming eventually, the forward moving party taken care of between the two and the others that had rose up to defend their families.

He didn't dare sheathe his sword, worried that there might be more lurking nearby. Turning, he saw Solona heaving heavy breaths, clutching her arm tightly and looking drained. It occurred to him then that aside from running from Templars, she had probably never seen real battle before. "How hurt are you?"

"I- I don't know." Solona replied honestly, and turned so that Aedan could get a look at the wound on her right arm. Blood was gushing out from around her fingers as she tried to keep the wound closed, a long tear in the sleeve of her mage robes revealing the long wound that had been carved into her skin.

"We need to get that patched up right away." Looking around quickly, Aedan made sure that there was no more darkspawn coming down on them immediately then shrugged off his pack, laying down his shield. He found what he was looking for quick enough, holding the bandages gingerly to try and not get darkspawn blood all over them. "Hold out your arm." Solona complied, wincing as she did so, and gave a little cry when Aedan tore what was remaining of her sleeve clean off. He went to work quickly, binding the wound tightly with the bandage. The white fabric was quickly turning crimson, but at least it would help to stop the flow of blood. "There, that should hold you together for now."

Bending down, he grabbed his shield and pack quickly and pointed in the direction they had been heading with the tip of his sword. "Get moving. I'd rather not stick around to find out if there are more hanging around." Solona only nodded, and with a firm grip on her staff in her uninjured hand she followed Aedan, nearly having to jog to keep up with his much longer stride.

**-0-0-0-**

They kept going until the darkness made them stop, and by then they had left behind the stench of darkspawn, far away from Lothering and once again among refugees that didn't look quite so downtrodden. Aedan set up camp by himself, Solona being absorbed in the task of trying to concoct something to put on her wound. She'd developed a fever, and though it didn't look like she was Tainted, the wound was certainly infected with something else of a devious nature.

While looking for firewood, Solona had instructed him to look for Elfroot, describing the broad leafy plant before he ventured out into the forest. By the time he got back she had stripped off her outermost layer of clothes and was examining her arm with a frown. "Did you find any?"

"I think." Aedan let the pile of wood drop on the ground and walked to Solona's side, crouching next to her and producing a fist full of plant matter. The mage took it, picking through the gathered bits and keeping a few stalks that had leaves nearly as big as her hand on it, setting them aside.

"This should do. Thank you." She tried unwrapping the bandage single handedly, and after a couple of clumsy attempts Aedan pulled off his armored gloves and helped out, unwinding the brown and red stained fabric from her arm. The gash had stopped bleeding, but it was an angry red color tinged with blue and yellow around the edges where the flesh had bruised. He heard Solona hiss at the look of it, a groan issuing from her throat as well as a few curses.

"That's a prize winner right there." Aedan said, walking to where he'd dropped his pack earlier and rummaged around inside, looking for a second set of bandages. "If you were in the barracks, you could make up some fantastic tale about how you got that one and gloat to everyone else in earshot."

Solona stared hard at him, trying to figure out if he was serious or not apparently. She seemed to be doing that a lot, like she expected him to be constantly pulling the wool over her eyes. "Men are strange beasts." A small chuckle escaped her, and she started pulling leaves off the plants that she had set aside, gathering them in her lap. "How anybody could be impressed by bodily harm is beyond me. It seems like a waste of blood."

"Well, I suppose it was too much to ask a woman to understand." Aedan replied quickly, receiving a spite filled glare from the mage. "But you did well today, all things considered. No missing fingers, and you've still got your head." Again he knelt at her side, unraveling the bundle of bandages, ready to help her put it back on since she wouldn't be able to do it herself. "Some more training with that staff and maybe you'll come away from the next battle unscathed."

Solona silently placed a few of the leaves over her wound, pressing the plants against her skin with a pained expression on her face. "How you can joke about this I'll never understand." She murmured, looking up at him once then holding out her arm to be wrapped when she was done pressing the Elfroot leaves into the wound.

Aedan began patching her up again, keeping the bandage tight as he wound the fabric down her arm. "I've never quite seen it done like this before. Isn't it normally in liquid version before you try and apply it?"

"It would be." She gritted out through clenched teeth, watching with a sort of morbid interest as her wound disappeared under the bandage. "But I don't exactly have the resources to be making a potion. No distiller, no flasks, nor mortar or a pestle. So, you sometimes have to make due with what you've got." She flexed her fingers when he was done, lifting her arm slightly to test his handy work, and was apparently satisfied. "Even in its raw form, Elfroot is very useful. I should be feeling better by morning. Sorry I couldn't help with camp tonight."

Aedan waved off her apology, sitting fully next to her and started the long process of removing his armor, stacking the metal next to him as it came off. "What else do you know how to do? Other than setting darkspawn on fire, I mean."

"Oh, a little of this, a little of that." Solona replied with a small smile, taking two leaves that she had left sitting in her lap and chewed on them, swallowing after a little while. "I know a bit of herbalism which seems that it'll come in most handy if I keep being the target of every rogue killer that slips past you in battle. And I'm fairly good at sewing. You do your own repairs as an apprentice in the Circle, and let me tell you there was certainly a lot to repair! Especially when they were trying to teach us how to light fires." She giggled at the memory, drawing her knees up to her chest and staring at the fire with an absent look, locking her hands around her shins.

"It seems like you had fun learning there." Solona gave him a sideways glance, waiting for the next question that would inevitably follow. Aedan didn't disappoint. "Why would you want to leave so badly? At risk of death upon capture?"

A long sigh escaped the mage, and Solona spent a silent moment watching the fire. "I don't think you'd understand."

"Of course I won't understand if you don't explain." Side-stepping the question made Aedan more curious, and he decided to see if he could get her to open up a bit. "They tell stories about the Circle, you know. They say that there's a great tentacle beast lurking in the depths of Lake Calenhad. A result of potions being dumped into the lake from failed experiments, and that the rocks nearest the tower glow at night."

Solona laughed at the ridiculous tale, unable to help but smile at the rumor. "Well, I don't know about a tentacle beast, but I wouldn't want to go swimming in there. It's covered in terrible green floating stuff in the summers. It stinks the whole lake up, you know, especially on a hot day." Aedan still had that curious look on his face, like a boy that wanted a story, and so with a sigh she conceded, letting go of her legs and sitting cross-legged.

"I can't say that I was mistreated in the Circle, but I was one of the lucky ones. New Templars fresh from the Chantry are hard on mages, and doing anything to raise suspicion would result in a warning from them… usually physical. But it was better than being made Tranquil or executed, so we kept silent about the abuse, scared of what would happen if we reported the Templars to the Knight-Commander. Some of the older knights knew what they could get away with too, and would prey on the younger apprentices. Many girls who came to the circle around the same time as me were… well, I'm sure you can imagine." Her hands balled in her lap, anger flashing over her face at the recalled memory of listening on those lonely nights in the Apprentice quarters as others were taken out of the common room and dragged who-knew-where for 'punishment'. How the Templars claimed to be hands of the Maker when they committed such atrocities…

"There's no written rule about having relationships with Templars or other mages, but you'd think there was from the way that they acted. Of course that didn't stop us. It was a form of rebellion sort of, a couple of apprentice mages sneaking away to kiss in broom closets under our guardian's noses. But if you came to be with child… that was a whole different matter." Solona took a deep breath letting her eyes close as she recalled the memory of the one time she'd known a mage who'd gotten pregnant. "There was a girl a few years older than I was who slept a couple of bunks from me. She and another apprentice were very serious about each other, madly in love and they went to all sorts of lengths to hide it from the Templars. But there was no hiding it when her belly started showing in earnest. She was taken away the day that she gave birth and returned a week later without her child. Her lover had also gone missing around that time, and nobody knew where he'd gone. She wept every night for nearly a month, and then finally one morning she was found dead in her bed, the floor crimson with her blood. She'd slit her wrists in the night, unable to take the pain of separation from her love and child any longer. That stopped all the romantic dalliances for near a half year afterwards."

"That's… that's truly awful…" Aedan murmured. He'd gotten all of his armor off and was listening to her story intently, hunched over with his forearms resting on his raised knees, grey eyes wandering over her face to take in every detail as she told her tale. "Where did they take the child?"

"Nobody knows." Solona replied quietly. "I think that children born of mages are raised in the Chantry. If they start showing mage sign, I suppose that they're put in a Circle, and if not… Well, they probably become Templars or a servant of the Maker. That's what I assume. They don't let you have family when you're taken into the Circle. They have a file on your relatives that you can inquire about. My family name is Amell, and apparently I've a mother and a father, and they came from the Free Marches. I was very young when I was taken to the Ferelden Circle, so I barely remember what they look like. If they cared that I was imprisoned in the Circle, then they never showed it, or else the Chantry forbade trying to contact me. I never got letters and they never visited me. I made family from within the Circle. The fellow apprentices were my brothers and sisters, the Enchanters mothers and fathers, and the First Enchanter was like a grandfather to us all. He did his best to keep the Templars decent."

"It sounds very… lonely."

"Indeed, it was a very lonely existence, but we made it work." She shrugged, meeting Aedan's concerned gaze with a nonchalant one of her own. But suddenly she grinned, recalling an important detail that was sure to keep things from getting too depressing. "I did have a lover for a short while. A Templar."

The look on Aedan's face was priceless. "What?"

She couldn't keep the grin off her face, straightening up a little bit for this portion of her tale. "Yes. There was one new Templar in the Circle who wasn't precisely like the rest. He was shy, almost nervous with his duties, and stammered around girls. Not at all like his fellows who were all Chant and Divinity and hogwash. There was some innocence about him, and I suppose that I felt like I should corrupt it. I wanted revenge for all of the wrongs that my fellow apprentices had suffered, what better way than to enter into a forbidden romance with a Templar?

"It was slow at first. He didn't trust me of course seeing as I was a mage _and _female, which meant that he got tongue tied every time I walked past or so much as looked in his general direction. But slowly I started winning him over. He became more caring in my presence, looked after me a bit when the other Templars started getting rowdy after being cooped up in the tower for too long. He was sweet and kind, idealistic even, and truly believed that he was helping to do the right thing. Before I knew it, I had started to loose my own game, and I was falling in love with him too by the end of it. We had to meet in secret of course, and he wasn't always stationed in the Circle. But when he came back from whatever duty called him to the outside he was more than eager to be in my arms again. Poor boy. I probably broke his heart when he heard that I'd escaped."

For a while Aedan simply stared at her, his mouth hanging ajar slightly until she reached over and pushed it shut. "You'll catch flies that way, you know."

He frowned at the reprimand and recoiled from her touch, though made no move to get up and flee from her. "Did you use that eye magic on him too?"

Solona cocked her head to the side. "Eye magic?"

"Yes, you used it on me in Redcliffe." The mage still looked confused, so Aedan elaborated, feeling extremely foolish for having to do so. "You looked up at me and I felt paralyzed, like I couldn't move."

A devious smile came to Solona's face, one that Aedan decided that he didn't like at all. "Women do not have to be mages to have the ability to awe a man into stillness."

He could feel his cheeks redden slightly, though stubbornly didn't turn from her, feeling like he'd been wronged somehow. "Uh huh, I'm going to believe that never. Keep your mage secrets if it's so important to you."

"Oh! Have I made you angry?" Though feigning concern, there was a large grin on Solona's face that rather ruined the façade quite thoroughly. "Or perhaps you're embarrassed because I've caught you lusting after the forbidden fruit as well…?"

Aggravated, Aedan threw his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "This is what I get for recruiting a female apostate to my cause. Thank you for the warning Maker, I'll be more careful next time."

Solona giggled to herself, content that she put the normally stoic Aedan off his game. "But what about you? You must have a past from before you started seeking revenge?"

Immediately the air of friendly camaraderie between the two fell, and Aedan pointedly looked anywhere but at her face. "Perhaps another night." Without another word he walked over to his place on the opposite side of the fire and lay down for the night, leaving Solona to stare after him with worry in her gaze and twisting her signet ring.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:**Okay, seriously, did anybody else get tired of being told "You wouldn't understand" in their play through? Srsly.

Dalish: You wouldn't understand why we can't go fight werewolves and expose our midriffs.  
>Mages: You wouldn't understand why we hate Templars.<br>Templars: You wouldn't understand why we hate Mages.  
>Dwarves: You wouldn't understand why we build such impressively large doors.<br>Kolgrim: You wouldn't understand why we worship a dragon.

Eff that. The fools just know that anything they tell you will sound stupid, and they're scared to have their opinions shattered by a more reasonable mind.

Anyway, description of the life inside the Circle was inspired by Anders' constantly whining and moaning. And highschool. Because when you lock a bunch of kids up together and tell them to play nice, things inevitably get ugly. Toss in some sexually frustrated men in armor, and you have yourself a mess. Mystery Templar Lover will remain unnamed, because I'm that devious D

**PS:** I want to thank everyone that's jumped on board so far for this story! I appreciate those of you who have decided to add this to your alert lists; it makes my heart warm to see the messages pop up in my e-mail. Hopefully, this story will prove to be worth your time, and I look forward to attempting to entertain you all.


	4. Word of the Road

Things were a little awkward the next morning as Solona and Aedan tore down camp in an uncomfortable silence. They left at the crack of dawn and as the morning got underway, many more people on the Imperial Highway joined them. Refugees mostly from the look of it, but there were plenty of traders too with their carts and mules. There was safety in numbers from those that prowled the open roads looking for an easy meal ticket, so those on foot that day clustered together in a pack, talking amongst themselves and exchanging road gossip.

Solona listened with an eager ear, having never been exposed to such a thing during her time in the Circle. There were wild tales of course, some of adventures and heroes, but there was also news being exchanged. The traveling merchants were as reliable a resource of news from other parts of the country as any place else, and she paid close attention to what was said about other places.

A lot of it had to do with the Blight, as was to be expected. Apparently something nasty had happened in Redcliff after they left, and the Arl there was deathly ill still. Strange. She didn't think that anything had been too out of place when they had left just a handful of days ago. Things sure changed quickly when they decided to. There was a wild rumor about wolf-men lurking in the forests that they would pass in a day's travel, but that seemed more like a tall tale than a serious rumor.

However, when conversations lead toward the Circle, she couldn't help but to feel a stirring in her stomach. Something had happened at the Circle? Fear crept into her gut for the friends she had left behind. Had the Templars gotten angry for the escape of two mages? Had they taken it out on the apprentices? On the whole Circle? Aedan nudged her, returning her to the here and now instead of thinking about the maybes. But soon enough it was his turn to get engaged in the conversation.

He perked up immediately upon hearing "Highever" from one of the traders that they were eavesdropping in on, walking uncomfortably close to Solona in an attempt to hear better.

"…say there's been a revolt." One of the traders said, a man with a large straw hat and leading a pack mule laden with goods that clanked as it walked.

"Yeah? I heard it was a nightmare. Nobody left the castle alive. They say the Couslands are dead." The second one replied, content to let his fellow elaborate on the point if he knew any more on the subject.

"I heard the same, and that Teyrn Loghain put his troops there afterwards. But it was all hush hush, nobody knows who did it. But I got my suspicion." The first trader winked, putting a finger on the side of his nose. "Whispers say that they saw flags from Amaranthine."

"No!" The second trader was incredulous. "The Arl of Amaranthine and the Highever Teyrn have been friends since before the battle with Orlais!"

"Believe what you will." The first replied with a shrug. "But you heard the rumor that Arl Howe's been made Arl of Denerim too?"

The second nodded. "Yeah, left Amaranthine to his son so that he could take Denerim. They say that the Arl's son there was killed by an elf rebellion, an' the Arl himself was killed before he even got to Ostagar. What d'ya think he had to do to get Teyrn Loghain to let 'em take Denerim, you think?"

"I think our _Regent_-" He spit the word like a curse "Told Howe to snuff out the Couslands."

"Oi, you be mumbling treason there."

"Then don't say it none too loud." He replied with a hiss. "But think about it. Leaves Cailan to the Darkspawn to save his men, says the Wardens plotted it all. Arl Eamon gets deadly ill, and now they say that all of Redcliff's been taken by something evil. And then the Couslands get snuffed. Sounds like someone's eliminating powerful people. An' the Civil war wot's broke out, just as a Blight has started?"

If Aedan hadn't been walking so close to her, Solona probably wouldn't have noticed how rigid the man was going the longer the two traders talked. As it was, she could feel his fists bunching up, his gaze riveted on the two. Even Keran had been set off by his master's attitude, his hackles rising slightly and obviously on the alert for danger.

Worried that he might make a scene, Solona put her hands around his forearm and gave him a tug, slowing her steps slightly so that they fell out of earshot of the traders and their gossiping. Aedan suddenly looked down, as if realizing for the first time that she was there, and a sigh escaped him. "Sorry." He mumbled, then pried her hand away from his arms and kept walking.

Solona fell behind a bit, examining his back and the shield that was hung there. Two laurel branches…

**-0-0-0-**

The passage across the breadth of the Bannorn had been boring in the extreme. It was nothing but rolling hills in all directions, and though it had been pretty at first, Solona was quickly disillusioned by it. By the time that evening rolled around there were trees on the horizon. The Brecillian forest took up about a quarter of Ferelden, so on the southern stretch of the Imperial Highway they'd be seeing a lot of it. Or the fringes of it, at any rate. Monsters and the Dalish ruled the real heart of the Brecillian, or so it was told. Between where they walked and where the legends originated was the Southron Hills and a broad lazy river.

Solona had suggested they put down closer to the other travelers for the night for safety's sake, but Aedan had disagreed. He staked a spot for camp some distance from the others and elapsed into moody silence while he collected firewood, leaving it to Solona to start up the blaze with her magic as per the norm.

Biting her lip, she debated the merits of trying to bring Aedan out of his dour mood, wondering if it would be worth the trouble or if he would work out of the rut himself. When he came back looking like someone had just kicked his shin, she decided that he'd risk his bad favor for getting him out of his bad mood. "Could you help me out over here? I want to see what this wound looks like."

Dropping his load of wood by the small fire Solona had managed to kindle, Aedan wordlessly complied with her request, kneeling at her side and began unwinding the bandage around her arm. The long gash had become an angry red mark on her skin by now, and she breathed a sigh of relief, glad that her impromptu healing methods had worked. "Thank you." He didn't reply, simply stalking to the other side of the fire and began rummaging through his pack, looking for dinner presumably.

For a while Solona let him do that, wondering how best to tackle this problem, and nerves stirred in her belly. She couldn't see this going down well. He was obviously very upset by what had happened today, and if he was who she suspected he was, then he had every right to be upset. "So, Aedan, who are you really?"

He paused from his rummaging, looking up at her through the fire that separated them. "What do you mean?"

"Please Aedan, don't play hard to get. I know you can only be one of two things." She gave him a second to confess, but when he remained silent she continued on. "You carry around a shield with the Cousland crest, and have a sword that seems to be of fine make, also with the Cousland crest on it. You come out of nowhere and refuse to talk about your past, and are desperately seeking to have revenge on an as-of-yet unnamed Arl. Then, the moment that you start hearing rumors about this Howe fellow you get all grouchy and bent out of shape. So, either you're a soldier from the Cousland castle who managed to survive the attack or… you're the Teyrn's son."

Her statement was met with silence, Aedan continuing to direct an icy glower at her that could chill anyone to the bone. Finally something gave, and he leaned back, his eyes drifting somewhere over her head. "Aedan Cousland. Second son of Teyrn Bryce Cousland and so far as I know, only surviving member of my family. My elder brother would be Teyrn, but he was at Ostagar when… When Loghain abandoned the king to his fate."

She had expected as much, but to hear the emotion in his voice crack with such rawness was… unsettling. He'd obviously been bottling it up ever since he had to flee from his home. "What were they like?" When Aedan only looked at her like she suddenly spoke a foreign language, she elaborated. "Your parents and brother, I mean. What were they like?"

He narrowed his eyes. "Why in the Maker's name would I want to tell you?"

Solona shrugged, not having a real answer to that. "Because I've never had family to loose? Because maybe you'll feel better if you talk about it? I don't know."

Silence dominated the camp again, heavy and seemingly immoveable. Solona was about to excuse herself for the night when Aedan drew a breath to speak. "My father… was a hard man. He fought in the war against the Orlesians, helped to win our freedom back from the sodding pigs. He was a man of principle and morals, and always did the best that he could for his subjects. He was a good man, an honorable man, and a great father. Even while on the edge of his grave he thought of nothing but to protect my mother and myself. My mother… She was something altogether different." A small smile flicked on his face for a second before disappearing again; fading back into the carefully placed neutral expression he wore. "She was a warrior before she got married. Knew archery better than any soldier I knew, and she was clever. She always knew when I was fibbing her, even when I got older and learned how to lie better. I suppose that someone like that is the only person that my father would be happy with. She stayed with him until the end. Shoved me right out of the castle and locked the door behind me so that I couldn't come back and try and drag her away to safety.

"And Fergus…" He ran a hand through his hair, resting his forehead against the palm of his hand for a moment. "What do you say about a brother? We got into all kinds of trouble. He inherited mother's wit, and he always used it against me when we got into scuffles. He'd tease me horribly as a boy, but he'd never turn his back on me in a pinch. Anybody that messed with the little brother of Fergus got his face bashed in. We got into so many fights as kids… And he was a good father, like ours was. Oren adored him, wanted to be just like his dad when he grew up and now… He'll never get the chance, because those _bastards_ slaughtered an innocent child-" His throat closed up with the rage that trembled just below the surface, rendering him unable to speak, hardly able to breathe. His fists were tightly clenched, the metal encasing his fingers digging into the leather covering his palms hard enough to hurt.

She saw his distress building as he spoke of his family and with soft silent steps she moved around the fire, coming to stand by his side. Gently, Solona placed a hand on his shoulder and was surprised to feel him trembling in his armor, shaking with the rage that all but consumed him. "Aedan-"

"How could they do it? _How could he order them to do it_?" Aedan wasn't talking to her, she knew that, and so didn't answer, remaining a silent witness as it all finally came out. The dammed up emotions he'd been holding onto by a thread were finally falling loose. Keran got up from his place next to the fire and laid his broad head next to Aedan's leg, looking up at him with those liquid brown eyes, far too intelligent for his own good. "He betrayed my father's trust. Did those years of loyalty and friendship mean _nothing_? Was the promise of becoming Teyrn in his place and having Denerim to rule over worth the price of all that blood? The innocents slaughtered… Not just soldiers. Howe's men ploughed though our defenses. Killed the soldiers, killed the servants, killed Nan and Oren and Oriana and my father and mother... Everybody's gone."

Aedan's head dropped, his shoulders slumping inward as if the weight that he'd been carrying were finally just too much for him to handle. His proud rigid figure had all at once become sadly diminished. He was a lost soul seeking some sort of truth, some sort of answer that would help him to understand the horror he'd witnessed… but he was drowning in the futility of it all, loosing ground every second.

Solona watched the transformation with a sad gaze and then knelt behind him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pressing her cheek between his shoulder blades. Many times in the Circle she had consoled young children as they cried for their mothers and fathers, or raged at the fact that they were abused and tossed out by family when their gift was discovered. She had comforted others of her own age that were homesick or soul weary of life in the Circle and the demands that it burdened them all with. And some days she was the one who sought solace in the arms of a friend. The mages had no family but the ones that they made, and sometimes all it took was to know that you weren't as alone as you felt in those desperate dark moments. "Not everyone. There's still you, still Keran. Your family isn't lost, so long as you carry the memory with you. Show Ferelden Howe's treachery. Show them that the proud Cousland line won't be defeated by trickery and scandal. I believe that you can accomplish that."

Aedan's hand came up and rested against her arm near his throat, his calloused hands rough against her softer skin, but she didn't mind. At least he wasn't getting angry or trembling anymore.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, collecting himself once more now that everything was out in the open. Keran whined, and was rewarded with a scratch behind the ears. "That was always the plan." He muttered quietly. They sat for a while like that until Solona let him go, sitting at his side rather than at his back now.

"So, it seems like you'd need to head to Denerim anyway to carry out this plan of yours." The mage said after a bit of silence with only the crackling of the fire and the noises of the night to interrupt it. "Fortunate we met up, isn't it?"

Aedan nodded, grabbing one of the pieces of log that he'd collected and tossing it on the waning fire. "I thought that I might catch wind of Howe while I was in Denerim, but hearing what those traders said today put any question of my destination out of mind. Though, it might take more than brute force and good luck to get to him if he's holed up in Denerim castle under Teyrn Loghain's wing. My only advantage is that he thinks I'm dead."

"Well, you know I'm good for melting locks, at the very least." Solona replied with a small smile, remembering how useful the Rod of Fire had been while she, Jowan and Lilly were searching for the phylactery room. She had escaped with the equipment in her mad dash from the Circle, but it had probably fallen out of her belt somewhere along the way. Maybe it was setting fires on the bank of lake Calenhad at this very moment. Who knew? "Perhaps an explosion or two, but don't expect me to be able to blow up a castle in order to find this man. I'm not an unlimited source of ultimate power."

"Just a very humble, very temporary source of ultimate power?" Aedan shot back with a raised eyebrow.

Solona chuckled at that. "Very humble indeed. Any more humble, and I think that I wouldn't be able to confess to knowing magic at all."

"Well, if any Templars come looking for us, I expect that you'll be on your best humble behavior then." The air seemed to have cleared between them now that all the unsettled emotions had been thrown out into the open. Suddenly, Aedan got to his feet, extending a hand to help Solona up as well. "Speaking of which, I suppose it's time to try and get your decent with that staff again."

She took his hand and picked up her staff, ready for training. "Perhaps I'll leave you with a bruise this time, instead of the other way around."

Aedan simply chuckled. "I seriously doubt it. But that remains to be seen."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** ANGST! Because there's no such thing as a good story without it. Also, props to the Dragon Age Wikia for existing. It's insanely helpful, especially for finding the rumors that a certain wandering dwarf will tell you on occasion. The trader's dialogue here is a compilation of several "rumors" that I could find, and a few more that I heard in-game but couldn't find online when playing through as M!Amell. Trying to keep in-game dialogue copy-paste to a minimum here. Again, thanks to my supporters, I really appreciate knowing you're there.

Also, the Rod of Fire... How come you don't get to keep the rod as like an active weapon or something, but you have to keep the damned signed paper? Every time I'm cleaning out my inventory, I want nothing more than to dump the stupid thing. Corpse Gall too. What's up with that? Stupid unchuckable quest items...


	5. The Docks

Denerim. The capital of Ferelden, laid out near the coast, the Drakon River near cutting the city in half as it finally found the sea. Brown river water was carried through the city and into the endless blue ocean. The air was tinged with salt, but the other smells were overpowering the scent of the sea. Near the gate there was the ever-present scent of wet dog that seemed to be the embodiment of Ferelden, along with the smell of many pack animals that passed through the gates on the way to the market district.

Solona looked at the huge city with wide eyes, apparently star struck by all the buildings and people and just the city life in general. Aedan had to keep a close eye on her, and more than once pulled her out from nearly being crushed by a wagon full of goods being transported either to or from the market district. He lead them through the city until the got to the wide open space of the Market District, the sky here seeming much clearer than the cramped streets that they'd shared with many a number of fellow travelers and their oxen.

Children played in the square running around through weaves of people with dogs in tow. Keran looked like he wanted to join in the fun, though he was well disciplined and stayed close to Aedan's side. Solona couldn't help but to giggle at the longing look the dog was giving the playing children. He was a lot like a silent four-legged person.

Most of the hustle and bustle was concentrated in the middle of the square where a huge cloth canopy had been erected. Underneath were goods traders of all sorts, the cries of hawkers trying to sell their wares piercing over the general mutter of the crowd every once and a while. All sorts of vendors crammed themselves in wherever there was room, and signs adorned nearly all the buildings, declaring them the shop of somebody or another. There was even a washwoman amongst the buildings, which Solona found quite odd. Didn't everyone do their own laundry?

Set aside from the hustle and noise was a building whose main spire stood out amongst the low ramshackle buildings that surrounded the market place. A stylized sun, emblem of the Chantry could peek down at you from just about anywhere in the market if one were to just look up. Though the outside was more or less the same color as everything else in the market, the building was built with more thought and purpose. It seemed a heavy monument to Andraste and the Maker, surrounded as it was by a stone wall just high enough that attempting to climb over it would likely get you flayed by the Templars before you dropped on the other side.

Chantry priests were scattered in front of and behind the wall, a couple of Templars in full armor standing in front of the Chantry building doors looking distinctly bored. "I really think that this is the last place I should be." Solona hissed so that only he could hear, distinctly aware that she was still wearing her Circle robes for all to see. Most had probably never thought to assume she was an apostate, but Templars were a different story.

They passed through the gap in the stone wall that surrounded the Chantry, a couple of women arguing about a mispronunciation of the Chant of Light loudly enough for everyone to hear it as they walked by. So far, none seemed to have an innate sense of knowing when an apostate was amongst them. Solona kept waiting for the Templars to jump at her anyway.

"Well if you keep acting suspicious, they're going to stare." Aedan replied quietly, walking straight up to a board that had been set a little ways from the door, a woman in Chantry livery standing next to it and remaining silent, watching them walk up without much interest.

Papers covered the board, along with plenty of unoccupied rusted nails where paper had obviously been there before and was torn off. Aedan looked over the papers that were there for a while, quickly scanning through before taking one of them off it's nail, nodded to the Chantry sister, then simply turned and left.

Solona waited until they were past the bickering pair of women before she dared to walk directly at Aedan's side, slightly annoyed by what she perceived to be a close call. "What was that about?"

"Chanter's Board." Aedan replied, looking at the piece of paper that he'd taken, reading it over again at a slightly slower rate than his quick scan before. "I'd heard about them from my teacher back in Highever. People post things that they need done that they're willing to pay for. Usually it's practical things, like looking for someone to repair a wagon or trading favors for goods, but sometimes there are mercenary jobs. Like this one. There are rabble-rousers on the docks, and one of the innkeepers there is tired of his complaints getting ignored by the city guard. He wants them gone, and he'll pay whoever clears the ruffians out. If we complete the task, we get paid, and then we have somewhere to sleep tonight and something besides jerky to eat."

"Oh… so… What? You go in and beat up some thugs?" Solona asked, having a sneaking suspicion that his plan included her using magic, which she wasn't entirely sure was a good idea.

"Well, hopefully I'll have a little magical back up, but yes, that's the general idea." The look he shot her was tinged with a sort of recklessness the she distinctly didn't like the looks of. "But no fireballs. We don't want the Templars getting their dander up if they know that a rogue mage is wandering the city. We need to find wherever it is that they're keeping your blood vial, and I need to know how to get into the Arl's estate without Howe stopping me first."

That was true. Unfortunately, she couldn't argue with the logic, because she realized that they needed money and they needed information. She'd just have to play it low, and hopefully learning how to use her staff as a combat weapon would prove useful in keeping people from asking too many questions about how exactly it was people curled up on the floor and acted like they were dying. "This sounds like a really terrible idea… but I don't see how it's avoidable."

"My thoughts exactly." Aedan attempted to lead them through the first bridge he saw, leading out of the back of the market and across the river, but they were stopped by a small crowd mostly comprised of elves and a very large barred gate. There was a sentry in front of the blocked entrance, and he was turning away people every time they tried to get close. Of the words that the guard kept repeating, Aedan could only make out "purge" and "closed", so assumed that whatever was going on beyond the gates wasn't going to be ending very soon.

Another bridge a few streets over got them across the river and nearer the docks. Here you could smell the sea far stronger than in the heart of the city, but you could also smell the fish that came out of it just as well. The closer they got to the docks, the worse it got. The masts of hundreds of ships littered the horizon like a massive floating forest, and everywhere around and above them screaming gulls rode the currents of air that blew off the sea over the city. The ocean stretched out before them, stretching over the entirety of the horizon.

Solona took a long hard look at the ocean as they walked. Lake Calenhad had been huge as well, but on clear days from the higher floors you could always see the opposite shore and the Frostback Mountains beyond. However, no matter how hard she stared, no land mass suddenly loomed out of the blue sky beyond the dip of the horizon. She was drawn out of her state of awe when she finally noticed that Aedan had been talking to her, though the longer she didn't react to what he was saying, the more sarcastic he'd become.

"…and they say that the spirit of a one-legged man haunts this stretch of dock at night, pulling up the skirts of ladies as they pass." He was saying in a rather animated way with hand gestures and everything, drawing a few looks from passerby's as the big warrior lectured his much smaller companion.

"That can't be true." Solona replied quickly, her cheeks coloring at realizing that she'd completely spaced out while he was probably saying something important.

Aedan rolled his eyes and sighed. "Any more of this and I might _let_ you get run over by the next ox cart that rolls by. Try and pay a little attention at least, huh?"

"Sorry." She mumbled, not so much because she was _actually_ sorry so much as she was embarrassed that she had to be lectured like a rank apprentice by Aedan. "I've never been in a city like this, or have ever seen the ocean. Or if I have, it was before I could remember, like when I may have been a baby or something."

"Tell you what." Aedan was distracted, looking up and down the dock for the sign that would tell them exactly where it was that they were supposed to be looking for these supposed thugs. "When we're done sacking drunk men and you've got your Templar problem under control, you can space out to your heart's content."

An aggravated sigh escaped her, and she had the sudden inclination to whack him with her staff. "You're quite impossible, you know? I promise not to be spacing out anymore."

"Good, and we've settled that just in time. We're here." He stopped directly in front of a ratty looking building that bore a sign declaring that it was "The Foaming Fishwife". Over the entrance was a carving of a mermaid, the top half being a very plump redheaded woman and the bottom half looked like it belonged to a carp. She was holding a mug that was overflowing with bubbles, and in better days had probably been painted. The wood was more stained than actually colored at this point, the combination of sun, salt and wind having damaged the wood until it was bleached grey and white in the late noon sun. The windows had been broken, probably in a bar room brawl when either a chair or a person had been thrown out them. Glass and blood covered the ground in the front from fights, though it appeared that someone had put a sack over the open windows to keep out the breeze from the sea. The place was in a sad state of disrepair, but then again, so was everywhere else on the sea front.

Solona couldn't help but to wrinkle her nose at the thought of having to go in there for any length of time. "I've got to hand it to them. How they keep customers here at all is a feat in and of itself."

Aedan chuckled, apparently agreeing with her. "Never thought I'd be in this part of town either." The inside was lit with some candles shuttered in lamps hanging from awkward places along the walls and smelled of fish and old cabbage. There was some other pungent smell harder to define, but permeated the place entirely. This long before night fell there weren't many in the way of customers just yet, only a few die-hard patrons who probably more lived here than they visited. A portly man stood behind the bar in the back of the room doing something that looked mildly important, looking up once at the people who entered as a means of greeting.

He did a classic double take then, apparently having expected someone else to walk in through the door who looked a little more like his normal patrons. He watched with beady eyes as the two wove through the maze of mismatched tables to get to him, placing big meaty hands on the bar top. "How can I help yeh?" The bartender asked in a surly voice, squinting first at Aedan but let his gaze linger on Solona for a little longer than was perhaps necessary.

"I picked up your flier you left on the Chanter's board." Aedan replied, showing the man the piece of paper that he'd tore off and taken with him.

The man examined the paper for a few seconds, looked at Solona again, then gave a gruff sigh that meant nothing good. "Ya know I won't be payin' ya if yeh don't complete the job."

"I'm aware that's how these things work." Aedan replied calmly.

"Well, I hope the girlie ain't gonna be helping you. Don't look like much use in a fight. She the one that cleans your armor after you've got it all bloody, eh?" He snorted to himself, apparently tickled at his own summary of the situation that had been presented to him. "You boy look like yeh belong as a palace statue in yer fancy getup. Go back home. I don't want yer noble father givin' me what-for when you get yer arse trounced."

She felt her face turn red with anger and embarrassment at being cast off as simply a shield cleaner, felt energy start to gather in her hands. "I'll show you who-!"

"Oi!" Aedan's hand shot out, closing over Solona's closed fist that she had raised, and immediately she felt the power dim a little, back in her own mind again. "Save the violence for the thugs, not the guy who's paying us to take them out."

Again the bartender snorted, though looked impressed with the small woman's gall to raise a fist against him. "Whatever. Just don't go cryin' when yer teeth get knocked out. Them men I was talkin' about come 'round near sunset and start making trouble the minuet they get in the door. I ain't the only one they come after, 'neither. I figure they got their own set of spirits holed up at home and get dumb drunk afore they get to the docks, 'cuz I wouldn't be the one sellin' 'em anything, and I don't know nobody else who'd do it either. They're pests, an' the guard's too busy takin' care of them rowdy elves and lickin' boots to pay attention to my problems. Toss 'em in the ocean, beat their faces in, whatever, I don't care, so long as they never come back. Rough 'em up, kill 'em even. Doubt the guard'll care. Got their faces wedged so far up a noble's ass that I doubt they'd notice a few riff raff going missing."

"Thank you for the advice." Aedan replied, nodded at the man and turned Solona by the shoulders, ushering her toward the door. "Remember what I said about not throwing around fireballs…?" He asked in a low mutter.

"Yeah, and he thought that I was your personal slave. Sorry if I got a little touchy." Solona grumbled, no hint of a real apology in her voice at all. "And I wasn't going to set him on fire. I was going to make him feel like his knees had turned to jelly so he'd fall over. It would have served him right."

"You can do that?" Aedan asked, sounding a little bit bewildered. They were back out on the open streets again, and Aedan let go of his mage charge, heading back the way that they'd come to the market.

"Of course I can." She replied quickly in a tone of voice that said she expected him to know as much. "It works best when your opponent isn't expecting an attack, or if they're physically weak, though. I haven't actually be able to put it to use in battle but-"

"Well work on that. It sounds like it'll be extremely useful in a scrape." He'd gone thoughtful on her, disappearing slightly into his own world when he considered the possibilities that such a skill would provide in the thick of things. "Especially if we're going to try and keep your talents under wraps. Anything that doesn't make a flash but has an effect."

Solona sighed, mentally saying goodbye to any work she had done trying to learn the elemental schools of magic. "Looks like Entropy is my new best friend…"

**-0-0-0-**

The afternoon rolled by quickly, most of their time being spent in the Marketplace while Aedan attempted to haggle his way into getting a less flashy set of armor that didn't obviously come from somewhere noble. He succeeded, though was sure that he got way less for the armor set than it was probably worth, though managed to get Solona a cape in the process that wasn't marked with the insignia of the Templars.

The set was not very different from his original set, just heavier and with more chain than leather with bolts in it. The dwarf he got it from claimed it to be a direct ship from Orzammar, but neither Aedan or Solona really believed it, chalking it up to eagerness to sell to fools on the merchant's part. Whatever the case, the merchant wasn't pleased to part with it for so little, but Aedan proved to be quite convincing.

He kept his shield and his sword though, unable to give up the mementos of his past that apparently meant far more to him than trying to be inconspicuous. He did get a bit of tough leather that was used to stretch over wooden shields and paint with the insignia of the various Banns and attached it to his shield. It covered the double laurel branches that marked the shield as one from the Cousland house neatly enough, lending him a bit more anonymity.

When they returned to the docks things were in full swing as they day shift ended. Fishers had hauled in their catch for the day and were rewarding themselves with a drink. Music poured into the streets from any one of a dozen bands of bards that frequented the places here, earning their keep by playing for drunken fishermen.

"Keep on the look out for an especially mean looking band of drunks." Aedan said in a low warning voice, the two walking the length of the dock, looking for trouble.

Solona watched the goings on of the nightlife here, impressed that people seemed to be having such fun in such a depressing looking place. "You'd think that it would be extremely obvious, wouldn't you? But they're all drunk fools it looks like to me."

"I suppose we just drop in whenever we hear a fight?" It was simpler than that even, as it turned out. As the two were making the rounds again and a large group of men who were laughing far too loud came staggering up the docks, talking amongst themselves in a way that revealed their drunkenness. There were ten of them all told, a few looking armed and one still in full guard uniform, which suddenly had everything make even more sense than before.

Any stray people that came their way were either knocked to the ground or else pushed amongst them and harried, the group of drunks yelling and pulling and punching, getting more violent the further down the street they walked.

"I suppose this is the part where we step in and tell them to stop being nasty stinking blight pigs, right?" Solona asked dryly, her staff already in hand as she prepared to beat somebody with it.

"Aye, that's the general idea." Aedan walked right up to the group with Solona close in tow, the two pausing some distance before the mob. "Turn around if you're looking to cause trouble. We'll have none of your foolishness tonight." His voice carried through the street, and it gave the drunks some pause. Silently, Solona wondered if that confidence was an inherited trait, in which case she could see why the Couslands had maintained respect throughout Ferelden for so long. He certainly sounded impressive.

"Oi! Who you think y'are?" One of them came forward, the man in the guard uniform. He was probably the leader here. "I'm the guard, 'an I says that we can go where we want."

"Fine guarding that you're doing here." Solona called out bitterly, narrowing her eyes at the stumbling man. They had gotten closer now, and the guard was standing only a few feet from Aedan, the others hanging a bit farther back. "I was under the impression that your nose would be distinctly more brown than it is. Seems we've been mislead."

The jibe went over most of their heads for a moment, then the guard apparently caught on and went red in the face. "You harpy bitch-!"

"You've once chance." Aedan interrupted quickly, stemming the flow of insults that was sure to come if he didn't intervene. He looked relaxed enough standing there with his shield on his back and sword sheathed away, arms crossed loosely over his chest. But Solona knew that he was ready for action. She could see the tightness in his jaw. He was angry. "Get out of here and don't come back, or I'll make sure that you don't come back."

"Oi, wot's this? Tryin' to intimidate a guard, are you?" He tried to sound brave, he really did, but there was a quiver in his voice that gave him away slightly. "I'll have you strung up by your thumbs I will."

"And we'll take yer harpy fer ourselves!" One called, his speech distinctly slurring. There was a general laugh of approval, and suddenly all eyes were on Solona.

The guard, bolstered by his men's attitude grinned. "How 'bout you step outta the way 'an my boys won't mess you up, eh? We'll take the harpy as a sign of yer repentance. How 'bout that fer a deal?" There was more laughter, and two of the men lurched forward to grab Solona.

She was having none of that. Her staff whipped out and cracked one in the ribs, and she rammed the butt of it into the other's abdomen. Both collapsed. "If you know what's good for you, you'll keep your filthy hands off of me." Perhaps it was the light of the moon and the nearest open window, or else an illusion, but she appeared to glow for the briefest of seconds, her face a slightly disgusted scowl.

The thug that she'd cracked in the side scrambled to his feet, holding his ribs while the other rolled around on the ground in pain, clutching at his chest and sputtering for breath. "Damn bitch! Let's mess 'er up!"

"We don't let nobody boss us!" One of the drunks called, and then suddenly weapons were out of their sheathes and the ones without weapons were rushing forward with their fists.

Aedan had his shield and sword out in seconds and immediately lashed out with it, striking the guard in the nose and breaking it upon impact with a wet crunch. The man fell over backwards, dropping his sword and flailing around in pain as blood dribbled down his face in a gush. He caught a sword on his shield and shoved at the wielder, pushing the man backwards directly into one of the others who tripped and fell awkwardly, crying out in pain as he did so. Someone tried to punch him in the back and got a pommel to the head for his efforts, dropping instantly like a sack of potatoes.

The man that she'd jabbed in the chest got to his feet just as the charge began, and was knocked right back down on his back with one of the drunks tripping over him as he went down. Solona didn't have time to laugh at it however, since three of the thugs suddenly were much closer than what she was comfortable with. She lashed out with her staff, swinging it with a wide arc and released a mental blast as she did so, the three falling over on their backs as if they'd suddenly been struck in the head when in reality her staff didn't make contact with a single one of them. Being unscathed didn't last for long however. She brought the head of her staff straight down at one man with all of her strength, and his breath whooshed out explosively. The other two having seen what their fate would be got to their feet and ran off into the night.

A man came at her with a sword and she immediately summoned her magic to make him weak, and the man tottered dangerously as the spell hit him, looking confused and slightly panicked. He nearly planted his face on the ground before a mass of muscle and teeth seemed to come out of nowhere, tackling him to the ground. Keran scratched the drunk up good, the man crying out in pain as the dog tore at his chest and face, and when the dog seemed satisfied with the destruction he'd caused, the man got up and ran for it.

The Mabari war hound wasn't done, leaping to his master's defense when it looked like Aedan was being overwhelmed. The unarmed drunks had either been knocked unconscious or fled by now, but the guard captain and two others with swords were attacking relentlessly. Keran grabbed one by the ankles and dragged him down to the ground screaming, and another one was quickly felled when he suddenly found himself with an inexplicable weakness in the legs and a shield to the face.

However, that left him open, and the guard was quick to take up on the momentary weakness in Aedan's defenses. His sword slipped past and grazed the chain that encased Aedan's torso, making a horrid screeching noise as it went and eliciting a grunt of pain from the warrior.

In a brief second, the guard gathered himself and went for a backswing which probably would have lopped off Aedan's nose if not his entire head, but suddenly went cross eyed and very nearly fell over himself, giving Aedan enough leeway to take a step back and bash the pommel of his sword into the man's head. He collapsed in a heap and remained unmoving on the ground.

Aedan turned the man over with his foot, heaving for breath with sweat dotting his forehead, obviously tired from taking on so many at once, drunk or not. "I suppose that little life saver at the end was your doing?" He called over his shoulder, seeing that the man appeared to have been killed by the blunt blow to the head.

Solona nodded and walked forward. "Disorient." She supplied quietly, looking down at the bodies that had accumulated around them during the fight, her face pale. There was another who wasn't breathing, though the others appeared to be still alive, if unconscious. "What do we do with them?"

"Dump the dead ones in the ocean, throw the others in the alley." He replied coolly, wiping blood off of his sword before sheathing it, though didn't try to get the small amount of blood spatter off his chest armor or shield. "First assignment completed. Do you feel like a mercenary yet? I do."

And he didn't seem happy about it.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Aedan forgets to choose the (Pursuasion) option when he gets pissed. Unfortunately, his Strength stat isn't high enough to send a group of drunk guards running just yet. Maybe in a couple of levels.

But in other news, I'm super stoked to finally be in Denerim. Seeing as neither Aedan or Solona are Wardens, they don't have to travel around all of Ferelden to do their quests and save the world. So, get used to Denerim, because we're going to be here for a while. I'll try not to make any of you lament a re-use of literary maps and have awful flashbacks to playing DA2. Props to my beta/editor for helping me come up with the Foaming Fishwife. Making up cool original inn names is surprisingly challenging.


	6. The Bound

They collected their pay from the astonished barkeep, who had plenty to say about how he'd never thought that they could pull it off, and looked at Solona many times when he was elaborately describing just exactly what he thought would happen to them in gruesome gory detail. It took all of her self-restraint to not freeze the man in a block of ice for his thinly veiled insults wrapped neatly in a blanket of bewilderment.

"If you have trouble again, we'll be around." Aedan pocketed the money, and then proceeded to get them a room for the night at discount for their services to the man. The room was a little on the cramped side, with only barely enough room to stand straight and a tiny window that was perhaps only as big as Solona's face, but it got them out of the weather. It was better than sleeping on the ground, if not by much. Aedan volunteered to sleep on the floor much to Solona's surprise. But after a night on the straw filled mattress wondering what sorts of animals had made their nest in it, Solona realized why he'd given it up so easily.

They spent a week like this, collecting jobs from the Chanter's board that usually had to do with silencing thugs, and even once they got a job from a city guard farther up in the ranks who seemed as frustrated with the lack of order as the two were bewildered by it. By the seventh night they had settled into something of a pattern, the barkeep that allowed them to stay in his place taking their skills of putting ruffians out of his tavern in exchange for lodging and meals. It was a good set up, over all.

One night Solona was up reading a book she had purchased with the coin she'd saved up over the week. It was a battered tome of healing that she'd found in a store called the Wonders of Thedas in the Market District. She used a few of the haggling skills that she'd learned from Aedan, but didn't dare try and influence the proprietor with spells, seeing as the man was also something of a mage himself. It worked fine on non-mages, since they never knew that they were being hoodwinked, but being a mercenary had naturally lead her to square off against fellow apostates, and she had discovered that they always knew when their wills were being manipulated.

After a while of reading she blew out the candle she'd used to light the room enough to see, Aedan's gentle snoring coming from the floor where he'd taken up permanent residence. They'd salvaged a decent looking mattress from another room for him to sleep on by now so he wasn't sleeping on the bare wood floor anymore. The man slept like the dead when he had a mind for it, going still as a board the moment he dropped off to sleep and not moving a single inch until morning. With a vague smile, Solona's gaze drifting out over the sea like it did every night before she turned in. Though she'd been looking at it through the window for the last week, she could never quite get enough of looking at it, especially when the moon reflected off the surface, shimmering through the forest of masts that always occupied the harbor.

Something caught her eye, and for a moment she though she'd been fooled by the gentle sway of the masts on the waves, and so looked again but more slowly. Sure enough she saw movement again and concentrated on it.

There were people out on the docks in a large group. The moonlight glittered off of armor, and it took a moment for her to realize that there was a severe height discrepancy between those in armor and those without. Were they… children? Elves? Her heart thudded in her chest hard, sudden realization dawning on her.

Immediately she prodded Aedan with her foot, trying to wake the man. He tried swatting at her lazily, determined to keep sleeping for as long as he could. Rolling her eyes, Solona shifted on the bed and grabbed his shoulder, shaking him hard. "Aedan! Wake up!"

That startled him to wakefulness, and Solona sat back to watch him flail around for a little bit, yelling out something that didn't quite make sense and made a gesture as if to stab the blank air in front of him. Keran, disturbed by the action woke up as well and barked a few times before realizing that nothing was actually wrong, then went back to dozing. When Aedan fully woke, he stared around the room, blinking like an owl until his gaze lit on Solona. "By the Maker woman, what is it? There had better be a fire, or someone had better be dying."

"Well, no one is dead yet, but I'm sure a fair number will be in a week." Unable to understand the cryptic response, Aedan simply stared at her until she continued her train of thought. "Look out the window, here." She pointed and waited for Aedan to get up.

He did so reluctantly, rubbing his tired face and running a hand through his sleep ruffled brown hair, leaning against the wall with his forearm as he looked out the window. At first he didn't see anything, but after following Solona's intently pointed finger, he finally saw what she did. "I don't… Oh by the _Maker._ Are those…?"

"Slavers." She nodded grimly, standing from her bed and walked the length of their small living space, grabbing her clothes and began putting them on over her night wear. "That would explain why we've not seen hide nor hair of any guards patrolling the docks this whole week except for the drunk ones."

Aedan sighed, rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands and then stared at Solona as she continued to dress, putting on her cloak last and grabbing her staff. "You're going to make me go out there and save them, aren't you?"

The mage narrowed her eyes. "Do you really need to ask? Need I remind you that Slavery is illegal in Ferelden? Somebody will probably pay for putting them out of business." When Aedan didn't move she turned to fully face him, placing her free hand on her hip. "Are you really going to sit and watch as slavers take a band of children or elves off to Tevinter, where they'll be tortured and used as blood slaves?"

He sighed. "No, I wouldn't wish that fate on them. But I think we're biting off more than we can chew. Drunk thugs is one thing, a scattering of apostates we've proven being able to handle… But these slavers are well armed, and there are a lot of them."

"So I'll pull out all the stops." She replied quickly, straightening to bring herself to her full height as she did so. "Explosions, lightning, the whole thing. I'm not going to sit by and watch them get away Aedan, I won't. I couldn't live with the knowledge that I didn't even try to help those poor people escape when I very well could have."

For a moment there was silence between the two, a clash of wills, and then Aedan's better nature won out and he gave, stooping to gather up his armor. "Fine. But if this starts going pear-shaped, then I have every right to drag you away from the fight. Trying to save them is one thing. Dying to do it is a different story."

"Fine." Though secretly she was thinking that he'd have a hell of a time trying to drag her away from a fight unless she was utterly exhausted or unconscious. Nervousness began to stir within her and she left through the door, heading downstairs quietly. Keran followed her out at the behest of his master, following her to the docks. Probably as much to keep her from doing anything stupid as to protect her if she sprung before Aedan got there.

She ran along the docks as quietly as she could manage and took shelter in the shadows of crates, boxes and mounds of nets the closer she got so as to avoid being spotted. Keran followed close in her wake, that Mabari intelligence keeping him from bolting out into the unknown until the attack had really started.

The slavers walked for a long while, leading her out from the main port where common fishermen made berth to the nicer docks where it smelled less of fish and more like the market. Big ships were here, the kind that transported large goods, spices from other lands, or in the case of the Tevinters, live cargo.

They stopped in front of a large ship that was fairly unremarkable. It was certainly no overly decorated Orlesian ship, but it was impressive for the size of its hold. Obviously they wanted to take a lot of slaves with them when they went, or else they already had them. Keran perked up and wagged his tail, the clank of metal on metal alerting Solona to Aedan's presence as he came up behind them and hid in the shadow of a stack of crates.

"What're we up against?" He asked in a soft voice, looking over the crates as he did so to get a brief glance at the slavers.

"Five armed slavers, two mages. The slaves are all elves, probably from the Alienage." She was holding onto her staff tightly, her anger easily visible. Solona wasn't exactly trying to hide it, either.

"They're probably blood mages…" Aedan swore quietly, his mind going over possible strategies. "And the trained kind, not the sort that we have, like those apostates who accidentally learned how to do it."

"I can take out at least one of them." Solona offered quickly, hoping that she sounded more confident than she felt. Blood mages were powerful, legendarily so. The Chantry often spoke of the evilness that blood magic represented, how it was demon given, and even those within the Circle had a powerful revulsion to it. She would certainly never try doing it. At the very least, having to cut open your palms all the time seemed like a bad way to go. "If I've got the jump on them, then I might be able to put the whole group to sleep, the elves included. Between you and Keran, you need to strike them down if you can as soon as possible."

"Got it. I'll run out there like a heathen the moment that they drop and start cutting off heads." A grimace came to his face, and as silently as he could, he slipped his arm into his shield and withdrew his sword. "Ready as I'll ever be."

"Then lets hope this works." Solona started gathering her power, seeing in her mind as everyone on the dock dropped to the ground limply with the sleep spell she was conjuring, then made it so, releasing the energy in a burst. The effect was immediate, the elves as a whole dropping where they stood, unconscious the moment they hit the ground. Two of the armed slavers hit the dock as well, one simply seemed to freeze up, sleeping on his feet and making for an odd sight indeed. The other two guards instantly went on alert, and one of the mages stumbled, fell, and then finally succumbed to the spell.

Aedan and Keran rushed from their position as soon as they saw the elves go down, the Mabari tearing off into the night and jumped the first standing guard he came across, the one that had fallen asleep standing. The man woke on impact, but it was too late. The dog had knocked him clean off his feet and over the side of the dock, his heavy armor dragging him to the bottom of the harbor with only bubbles left to mark where he'd gone down.

The two guards left still awake rushed forward to meet the threat head-on, screaming some sort of battle cry in Arcanum that probably meant something very insulting. Aedan met their charge, stopping short of colliding head-on with one and his sword passed a hair's breadth in front of his face, missing him by the barest sliver of a margin. His shield went out, catching the man in the shoulder and nearly knocking him off balance with the force of it. He went to stab cleanly through the man's head only to have the warrior twist at the last minuet and meet the oncoming blow with a shield of his own. The second awake slaver rushed Aedan from the side, sweeping a great two-handed sword in a broad arc that if struck would probably have cleaved Aedan clean in half. Keran interrupted the deathblow, his powerful jaws locking around the man's ankle and pulling with all his might, tripping the man up.

The sword caught Aedan in the shoulder and caused enough of a distraction that the first slaver found an opportunity to rush him, knocking away Aedan's shield and aiming for a kill. He nearly got it too, if Aedan's sword didn't strike down and nearly shattered the slaver's blade. He got a pommel to the face for the effort, the slaver's jaw cracking unhealthily when Aedan backhanded him.

The mage seemed to be stunned by the sudden attack, but wasn't out of the count for long. He started summoning some sort of spell, speaking rapidly in Arcanum as he did so and making all sorts of hand gestures, the energy he was gathering making a visible ball between his outstretched hands. Solona rushed from her hiding place and sent out a burst of magic, frost blooming over the skin of the mage, freezing him mid-cast. The other slavers that she had put to sleep were waking, along with the first mage who was rising quickly. Unwilling to face two of the blood mages at once, she quickly sent out a spell of horror, and was rewarded with watching the stunned mage fall back on the ground and start writhing, screaming in terror from whatever nightmares she'd conjured into his head.

Keran had managed to grab a hold of the warrior's arm that he'd downed and pulled hard enough to wrench his arm, the man crying out in pain when his shoulder was dislocated. The warrior kicked the dog out of the way, Keran retreating briefly with a yelp before returning to the offensive, harassing the warrior as he tried to rise, biting and scratching and keeping him down for the count.

Solona saw what the dog was doing and sought out the man's life energy, drew upon it with the power of her mana and felt his strength flood into her. The man gave a startled cry, then collapsed dead on the docks. It was not a second later when Solona felt something odd, a warp of power, and then she was burning. There was no fire, but she felt her blood rush and heat, practically boiling in her own veins. She tried to scream out, but her throat was closed off, her body totally out of her own control as the blood mage that she'd frozen took his revenge, delighting in watching the mage woman suffer silently under the influence of magic.

The two slavers still asleep had fully risen now, the one closest to the screaming blood mage pausing for a second to help. He changed his mind however when Aedan drew his blade across the neck of the slaver that he'd been fighting, very nearly decapitating the man when he did so and blood sprayed all over as the body went down. Keran launched an attack, the two armed slavers nearly tripping over the still asleep elves as they rushed to kill the warrior that had downed another of their fellows.

The pain was absolutely excruciating, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She was trying to block out the mage's control, trying to assert her will and disrupt the spell with any mana she could still direct, but nothing was working. The mage was going to kill her. She was absolutely sure of it. She could feel his will smothering her, could practically feel his fingers wedging into her brain and wrestling control from her with an iron grip.

Then suddenly it stopped. Solona dropped to the ground, gasping for breath and shaking, barely able to believe that she was in control of her own limbs again. She looked up, expecting to see Aedan having stabbed the mage through the head or something, but instead saw that he was engaged in the last two armed slavers still standing, he and Keran working in tandem to thrown them off their balance as best they could. The mage she had set a nightmare upon had stopped screaming; slowly regaining his senses as he rose to his feet and attempted to join the battle once more. Weakly, Solona tapped into the mage's life force; drawing what energy she could and was satisfied to watch him drop to the ground again, this time dead.

The mage's death gurgle was a satisfying sound. The elf had waited a long time to take out her pent-up rage out on somebody, and who better than some mage that appeared to be too dumb to notice when a little elf woman came up and stabbed him straight in the gut? She flicked the blade she'd picked up, having taken it from the corpse of the shield bearing one that had been killed and turned her attention to the fight. She would have been far more comfortable with a smaller sword, but this would do for now.

The elf took a running start and ran straight at the slaver who was fighting fiercely with the dark-haired man who wasn't wearing Tevinter livery. She supposed that made him her ally, for now. The poor bastard didn't even see her coming, concentrated as he was on trying to keep from being decapitated and avoiding the flailing sword of his fellow slaver as the man tried to ward off the dog viciously attacking his ankles. Her sword sliced through a chink in his armor, sinking up to the hilt. The man appeared to have been startled by a sudden sword in the ribs, looked at her with a bewildered gaze, then was knocked to the ground by being pummeled in the chest by the not-slaver human. The two locked gazes for a second, elf and warrior, then went about attacking the last remaining slaver, the elf woman scooping up the sword of her latest kill and moving around behind the final target.

From her place at the edge of the dock Solona watched with a bit of wonder as the three easily overcame the last slaver, the red-headed elf woman stabbing the man in the back while Aedan shoved him further on her blade and Keran dragged him down to the dock. He was dead in a second, and the elves that had been under her spell were waking up to the carnage. Some simply fled the scene, but others remained behind apparently paralyzed by the sight of so much death.

"What are you waiting for?" The elf that had joined the fight asked, looking at her fellow kin. "By Andraste's ass, get out of here! Or let the Void have you!" That got the others going, and as one they started running for the city.

The battle on the dock had woken up others who had been sleeping, and apparently alerted those who were on the boat. Arcanum chatter rose from the slave vessel, and soon enough heads appeared over the railing. "Time to go." The elf picked up a second sword and ran away from the dock at full speed as arrows started to rain down on the docks.

Keran ran ahead of Aedan who paused to help Solona to her feet and then proceeded to drag her by the hand out of reach of the arrows in a mad flight from the harbor. Alarm bells sounded throughout the bay and everywhere lights flared to life in windows. By the time the guard got there, the perpetrators were long gone.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** Oh look, we're doing something good without promise of payment! They do appear to still have souls. This chapter was fun to write. It was initially a lot longer, but in the end I decided to split it in half, so, to be continued! Next chapter we have a new character, and even _more_ exciting things start to happen. Can you handle the suspense?

In onther news, I only _just now_ found out that you can reply to reviews given to your stories. I feel like I've been duped. Curse you fanfiction and your complex replying system! Curse you! Also, I haven't been putting up disclaimers for my story. If this bothers you, I'm sorry. However, since the site is called **_fan_**fiction and I am obviously not David Gaider or anybody else on the production staff of DA, I figured that a warning was unnecessary. If anybody was hoping that I _was_ a member of the production staff, I'm sorry to disappoint you.


	7. Rebellious

They had been running for some time, the elf leading the way through the winding streets of Denerim. Every time that Solona thought that they were quite lost they would suddenly emerge onto a familiar road and then be off of it just as quickly. Eventually the warning bells faded into the background and then couldn't be heard at all. The night became still and silent with only the occasional barking of dogs to disturb it.

They stopped in some nook between houses in the richer part of Denerim where the higher-class merchants and minor nobles resided. All of them were winded from the run, Aedan leaning his huge frame against the nearest wall, coddling the arm that had been hit at the docks and taking in deep breaths of air. Solona was less graceful about it, gasping desperately for breath as if she'd been under water for too long. Keran seemed to be a bit winded, his tongue lolling out as he panted, but overall seemed the most unaffected by the run, plopping down to lick his various wounds that had been acquired during the battle. One looked especially bad, a long cut over his ribs that had coated his fur in blood and shone black in the night.

The elf was arguably the worst off. She was trembling, coughing between gasps for air, a wheezy sort of sound in her lungs whenever she tried to breathe. She was fair and delicately built, like all elves and all of her appendages could be described as long and graceful, even though she was even shorter than Solona was. But she wasn't just thin and willowy, she looked starved. Severely so.

All of her bones were sticking out, like she hadn't had a decent meal in weeks. It was a wonder that she had been able to run for this long, let alone be able to lift a sword and kill people with it. Her face was perhaps quite beautiful once, but the starved look was very unbecoming of it. Her bright red hair was matted with either dirt or blood, or perhaps a bit of both, and her large green eyes seemed to take up most of the space on her hollow face. She was a sad sight indeed, made even more so by the splatter of blood on what had once been a white dress that was now stained with dirt and who only knew what else.

After the four spent a few moments catching their breath, the elf spoke, still coughing occasionally when she did. "I don't know what possessed you shems to take on those slavers, but… I thank ya for it. Woulda had to spend a week in the ship 'afore the slavers gathered enough to fill the hold and head off for the Imperium… I figure I spent my share of time in a cage enough for the rest of my life."

She gave them a grateful nod and then without another word she started to walk away. With her thanks said, she apparently was planning to go off and do bigger and better things, but got no more than a few steps when she suddenly collapsed on the ground.

Aedan stood against the wall looking extremely confused by the sudden turn of events, but Solona rushed forward, kneeling at the woman's side and checking to see if she was still alive. Her pulse fluttered weakly at her neck, the elf barely clinging to life. Drawing on her inner reserves of strength, Solona cast the healing spell that she'd recently learned, and felt the energy drain out of her. The elf breathed easier, but didn't wake.

Aedan came to her side looking down at the elf and then to Solona and back. "So? What do we do with her?"

"I guess we take her with us?" She knew that Aedan wanted to say no. The room that they shared was already tiny enough without adding another person to the mix, but what other option was there? "We can't send her to the Alienage, since it's still closed off to everyone including the other elves. And we can't just leave her here. She'll surely die if she doesn't get something to eat soon."

A heavy sigh came from Aedan and he put his hand to his face, thinking about the situation quickly. "You're right on both accounts. I guess we can see if that room across the hall is still open. Will you stay with her?"

After taking a moment to think, Solona nodded. "I think it would be best. I would feel guilty if she died in the night after getting her back to the inn."

Aedan nodded and knelt down, taking the elf woman's arm and sliding it over his shoulder. He groaned when he picked her up, pain lancing through his body from various wounds when he picked up the slight form of the elf woman. If she weren't bone skinny, then he would never have managed to lift her. As it was, dark blood splattered on the ground when he straightened again.

Solona gasped when she saw it, immediately rushing to his side, healing blue covering her hands. "Aedan! How bad did they get you?"

"It's not fatal." He replied through clenched teeth, his jaw set hard against the pain. "It just twinges."

Solona kept healing him until she couldn't bear to loose any more energy, her hands trembling when she finally let the blue glow fade. "I didn't get it all." Even her voice shook from using so much energy at once.

"It's alright, I can make it back like this." He adjusted the elf in his arms to better carry her. "You'll have to steer any guards away if they come around. I can't exactly explain her away as my elf servant if she's all covered in blood and unconscious like this."

The docks were deserted when they got back, which was a good thing because Solona was pretty sure that if she had to bend the will of any guards she would pass out right there on the street. Nobody was really awake save for a spattering of those too drunk to remember how to get home, so the two with their unconscious elf counterpart made it to the rooms without hindrance. Aedan set her down on the small bed in the room across the hall that he and Solona had taken up residence in. The mage stayed behind to make sure that the elf was in a stable condition before returning to the room with Aedan, walking in as he managed to get one of his shoulder pads off, hissing in pain as he did so.

"Do you need help?" Solona asked, kneeling on the floor by the door where she'd hidden some things under a loose floorboard. She withdrew a small vial of blue liquid, a lyrium potion she'd liberated from the corpse of an apostate they'd killed earlier in the week and drank a bit of it. Immediately she felt her energy return to her in a warm soothing flood of energy.

Aedan struggled in silence for a little bit, having a tough time unbuckling everything on his own. "Yeah, my mail is catching on something. I think it was crunched in the fight."

Solona stood, studying the twisted metal on his side just below his ribs. She struggled with the leather for a little bit before she got it unhooked and Aedan sighed with relief when the metal chain links went limp around him. He mumbled thanks and finally managed to throw everything off in an unorganized pile on the floor.

Solona stood and waited for him to finish dressing down until he was in a loose shirt that kept the metal of his armor from rubbing directly on his skin and an unremarkable pair of pants. The white rough cotton shirt was stained with blood everywhere from nicks and cuts in his skin from a blade that had managed to slip through his armor. A spot on his left hip had plastered his shirt to his skin, the top hem of his pants dark and wet directly below the wound. Another spot on his arm that he'd been favoring was similarly damp and clingy. "Where else did they get you?"

Aedan pulled off his shirt gingerly, grimacing as he did so and took a look at the various bruises he'd acquired in the skirmish. "I think I broke a finger or two on my shield hand." Aedan replied in a quiet voice. He wanted to say more, she could tell, but it seemed that he hadn't figured out how to put it yet.

"You were hurt really bad this time." She said in a breath of a whisper, walking forward and concentrating her power on the profusely bleeding wound on his hip, seeing it seal up under the dim blue glow that encompassed her hands before moving on.

"So it seems." Aedan remained silent as Solona walked around him healing as she went, her brows furrowed in concentration while she worked. She paused for a long while at his injured arm, the pain receding the longer she worked at the wound. It was a mess of bruises and only half-healed from her earlier pass of magic in the alleway. If it weren't for his armor, he would probably only have a stump of his arm left. As it was, the metal seemed to have crunched inward and dug open the wound, tearing at the skin until it was in tatters. She had to pick out pieces of shirt that had lodged in his muscle, inciting a hiss of pain from Aedan every time. "This was a really dumb move, you know. We nearly died."

The mage remained silent, continuing to heal him with a glow of blue radiating from her hands, her fingers now covered in his blood.

"What did that mage do to you?" He asked, turning his face slightly so that he could see the concentrated expression Solona was sporting currently. "I saw you stop in the middle of everything. You looked like you were screaming."

"Blood magic." Solona replied quickly, the magic fading from her hands. She grabbed Aedan's wrist and examined his hand, causing him to try and draw it back when she touched his broken finger a bit harder than was necessary. "They cast a spell on me, that's all. We won, so what does it matter?" Again she drew on her energy to heal him, the broken finger mending itself under her care.

"I don't know if you would have made it if the elf didn't intervene." Aedan replied, feeling more than knowing that there was more to it than what Solona was providing with her clipped answers. "I don't know if _I_ would have made it, for that matter."

Abruptly she dropped his hand, leveling a glare at the big warrior. "So? What do you want me to say? It's too late to change things now, and I'm not apologizing for doing what was right."

"That's not what I'm asking." She looked like she wanted to flee the room when he didn't back down, so he moved in front of the door, crossing his arms over his chest. If she wanted out, she'd have to listen to him first. "I want you to stop and think about this. You very nearly died. We were outclassed, and if not for a stroke of random luck, all three of us probably would have been dead. Freedom doesn't mean much if the first thing you do is try and get yourself killed."

"Why would living free be worth it if all I ever did was cower and hide from obstacles?" Solona asked, her temper starting to show. "I did the cowering and the hiding already. I've watched the abuses of the Templars all my life and done nothing about it! But now I've finally got the chance to make a difference, and you want me to _ignore_ it?"

"Why does it seem like you're deliberately missing the point?" His voice echoed her exasperation, his own patience beginning to wear thin as Solona continued to speak. "You don't have to by a martyr to do what's right! If you want to do good, some real good, then you have to pick your battles! Flinging yourself against every impossible challenge won't make the world a better place. It'll just make you dead."

Blood rushed to her face, again feeling like a rank apprentice being lectured by somebody who obviously thought they knew far better than she. "And what do you care if I die or not? Scared that your little bullying business will be less effective without your pet mage there to back you up?"

"Solona, don't. That's not what I-"

"Spare me." She hissed, rolling her eyes. "And move. I won't use my magic on you because we're friends, Aedan." It was a threat.

They stood chest-to-chest, mage versus warrior, and finally Aedan gave, though reluctantly, letting her pass with a cloud hanging over her head as she went. "I care if you die or not _because_ _we're friends_." He let her go with that final jab, and Solona closed the door hard, feeling an overwhelming sense of guilt coupled with her anger as she put down for the night in the room across the hall, watching the elf that they'd rescued sleep peacefully unaware of their argument.

Keran came with her, nudging open the door with his nose and looking at her with his big intelligent eyes. Solona let him put his head in her hands and her hands glowed healing blue, the long ugly gashes that the dog had acquired from the fight sealing up before her eyes. "Sorry big guy, I wouldn't forget about you."

He whined once then waited for the mage to finish her job. She scratched him behind the ears when she was done, and then he left her alone to her thoughts with her back against the wall and a hollow feeling in her stomach.

**-0-0-0-**

Her head was throbbing when she woke up. Something was different. She was somewhere new. She was laying on something soft, not the cold hard dungeon floor she had started to become used to sleeping on. It didn't smell like death here either, but instead smelled of fish and the sea.

Slowly the elf woke, opening her eyes and feeling weak all over. Immediately she noticed a few things. One, that the constant burning where the chains had been placed around her ankles and wrists was gone. Two, there was light in this room, and the ceiling above her was made of wood, not stone. Thirdly, there was someone in there with her, a woman with brown and blonde hair that mumbled to herself, hands aglow with magic.

From across the hall Aedan heard a scream and woke from a dead sleep with his heart racing. Keran barked, the dog immediately getting on his feet and started pawing viciously at the door, eager to get out and fight. Aedan barely paused to grab his sword and wrenched the door open, expecting to see the hallway full of soldiers or Templars, but instead Keran began clawing at the door across the hall. Cold fear washed over him, and he yanked the door open to see that the elf was awake.

The redheaded woman had Solona in a chokehold, her arm squeezing against the mage's windpipe to keep her from uttering spells. How she managed to hold on while Solona struggled in her emaciated state, Aedan would never begin to fathom. The moment he entered the elf's vivid green eyes found his face, a look of desperation there.

"Don't move shem!" The elf called out, rising to her feet and still holding Solona captive. "I'll choke this woman to death if you get any closer. And call off your damned dog!"

Keran had been barking at her loudly, and would have gone and simply dragged the elf down by the ankles if the room wasn't so small. The elf was holding Solona so that the mage served as a shield, blocking any incoming attack unless the attacker was willing to hurt the mage in the process.

"Let her go, elf. We mean you no harm." Aedan grabbed a hold of Keran's collar, pulling the mabari back. He continued to growl, but didn't strain against his master's hand. "Don't you remember? We saved you from the slavers last night."

"And what'd you plan on doin' with me afterwards?" The elf shot back quickly, obviously not about to trust him, savior or no. "Turn me into the guards? Maybe you work for some other Tevinter shems and caught me for them instead. Not takin' that chance. Put down your weapon!"

When Aedan didn't immediately comply, the elf tightened her grip on Solona's neck, causing her to struggle harder. "I said put it down!"

He paused, looking to Solona's face for a hint as to what she expected him to do. Suddenly the mage gave off a powerful wave of force that almost knocked Aedan off his feet and even Keran retreated from. The elf let go of the mage's neck and fell backwards, allowing Solona to drop to her knees, gasping for breath and coughing hard.

Recovered, Keran bolted forward to attack the elf but was intercepted by Solona's outstretched hands. He snapped at the elf's ankles and she retreated into the corner of the room on top of the bed, looking frightened and severely disappointed with the outcome of her escape attempt. Aedan came forward as well, standing over Solona protectively. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, don't hurt her!" Slowly Solona got to her feet, still holding onto Keran's collar to keep the dog from leaping at the cornered elf. "I think she was a prisoner for some time before they took her to the slaver ships. She's just scared we'll send her back."

"By all the fool notions-" Angrily, Aedan sheathed his sword and showed the elf his empty hands. "Look, we saved you from those slavers at great personal risk. We weren't sent, we don't have an agenda, and we're certainly not handing you back over to them."

The elf relaxed fractionally, but still kept a close eye on the two.

"We're not going to give you to the guard, either." Solona said calmly, releasing Keran when the dog calmed down and wasn't about to leap on her anymore. "After we helped you and the others escape from the slavers, you collapsed. We brought you back here. I was afraid that you'd die if you were left by yourself."

The elf snorted, disbelieving that Solona could be so kind-hearted. "Nobody just decides to up and save a group of elves fer no reason. What's your game? Why the lies?"

"Nobody except for maybe a mage." Solona held up her hand, the one with the signet ring bearing the heraldry of the Circle. That got the elf woman's attention mighty quick. "I've worked with many elves from the Alienage. In the Circle, we're all equals, all castoffs of society. Race or rank doesn't matter there."

"What about him?" The elf nodded toward Aedan, her gaze remaining intent on the man. "He don't seem like a Templar to me."

"I'm nobody that important." Aedan replied in a gruff voice. "Sword for hire."

"Ah." She looked him over briefly, and was apparently content with the explanation, so turned her attention back to Solona. "I guess that makes you the sort of mage that don't really like to pal around with Templars then, eh?"

Solona nodded. "Exactly."

"So I was rescued by a couple o' mercs and their dog?" Keran growled at the elf, to which she made a gesture of approval. "A very smart dog, at that. You guys low on members or somethin'? Lookin' fer new blood?"

"No, that's not-" Solona started, but was cut off by Aedan.

"Actually, we are in need of some help." He had that look on his face that said he was hatching a plan, so neither of the women interrupted him, though the elf looked like all of her suspicions had finally been justified. "But it's help with information, not labor. How much do you know of this city?"

She laughed, apparently very amused by the question. "Tell me mister sword-for-hire, how often do ya think it is that I get out o' this city?" When Aedan remained silent, the elf only grinned to herself. "Exactly. I could tell ya how to get from one side to t'other without getting' mugged even once. Where to put down if the guard is lookin' fer ya, and what times you best be avoidin' the patrols 'cuz they've got scum on duty. I know this city."

"Good. Then what do you know of the Arl's estate? Or the Chantry building?" The elf was silent, apparently trying to guess Aedan's game, then shrugged to herself, deciding that it didn't matter anyway.

"I don't know much 'bout the Chantry. Shems don't like it when an elf that ain't attached to one of 'em as a servant comes sniffin' around their holy ground. An' them boys in armor they got as guard dogs ain't nice when their holy mothers get upset. Sorry. The estate's a different story." She paused to collect her breath and thoughts, noting the slightly eager look on the warrior's face and how the mage appeared to be somewhat crestfallen by the news thus far. What a pair. Their game faces were terrible. "I broke in there once. Did a little treasure hunting, and spent lots of time in the dungeon for it. So, I know the place fairly well."

Solona seemed bewildered that the slight little elf woman was a thief, and didn't bother to hide it. "You broke into an Arl's home? Past the guards and the staff and who only knows what else?"

"Yup. Seemed pretty impressive at the time to me too." The elf's tone was completely deadpan, giving nothing away.

"Well, then maybe we'll have use of your skills after all." Aedan continued after Solona continued to stare at the elf, trying to gloss over the awkwardness that she had summoned. "But not until you're ready, and if you'd be willing to help."

The elf took a moment to examine the two, still under the impression that the two had to be getting at something. "Well, if you plan on doin' anythin' illegal, then count me in. I'm always up fer feather ruffling, especially when it comes to the nobility."

A pained smile crossed Aedan's face. "I'll keep that in mind. I'm Aedan, by the way. She's Solona, and the mabari is Keran."

"I'm Kallian. Lookin' forward to workin' with you."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** I'm so excited that it's not even funny. The City Elf origin is by far my favorite one of all. Since DA:O has an achievement requiring a play through of all origins to complete, I of course had to be a perfectionist and try my hand at all of them. I played through City Elf as male the first time around, and was immediately curious to see how the story differed for a female. I fell in love with Kallian's story, and she was definitely my favorite Warden when it was all said and done. I realize of course that not-saved-by-Duncan City Elf has a lot of obstacles to survive in order to get out of Denerim alive at all. No worries, I've come up with a fairly solid plan that I hope will appease your curiosity and suspension of disbelief. Her story will be revealed gradually, so you'll have to wait and find out just how it is that I've managed to save her from being executed. Also, Kallian is a compulsive liar. Don't be fooled. Props to anybody that managed to guess who she was before the name reveal sentence.


	8. Catching Up

The morning had already been a little busy for what Solona was used to in their time in Denerim, but it seemed that today was one for momentous changes. After sealing their shady deal with the elf, she and Aedan decided to head to the market. They got their meals at the inn free for services rendered, but it was nice not to either be eating fish or something that was tasteless and a uniform grey color for once. That, and they'd run out of jobs from the Chanter's Board for now, so Aedan was going to go check and see if anyone had posted new tasks.

They had just gotten to the bottom flight of stairs when Solona suddenly felt like something very wrong was about to happen. Her skin prickled and she held her staff tightly, looking around the small bar room for the sign of danger. Keran seemed unaffected by whatever ill premonitions she was experiencing, and the only person still here this early was a man sleeping off his hangover with his face firmly planted on the bar top.

She was about to dismiss the bad feeling as something from dinner the night before going wrong, and then her premonition of danger materialized. The doors burst open with a crash, one being ripped clean off its hinges with the force of entrance. Four men in heavy plate armor came streaming in the door, the last one to enter holding a glowing red vial in his left fist, a sword in the other. "Her!" He shouted, pointing his sword. "That's the one! Kill anybody that gets in the way!"

With a rallying battle cry the other three charged forward, and Solona only managed to get off a weak spell to weaken one before the very heavens seemed to open up and crash down on her. The Templar clutching the vial unleashed his full power and a blast that sent Solona's ears to ringing and had her collapsing on the floor. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Aedan get knocked off his balance and crashed straight into a table that broke when he landed on it, and Keran was knocked away from her as well with a high pitched yelp.

Whatever the Templar had done made her hurt everywhere, hardly able to breathe as the full force of his will tried to crush the very life out of her. She could tell that her powers were going to be of little use with whatever enchantment the Templar cast on her. It was like freezing to death, only the cold came from the inside and not the outside. For a panicked moment she though she'd been somehow made Tranquil, the Fade completely cut off to her, then realized that if she was panicking then her ability to tap into magic had only been temporarily suspended as opposed to the permanent kind.

Aedan was on his feet in enough time to intercept the first Templar that came for Solona, blocking a powerful swing from the Templar's two-handed sword on his shield with a terrible screech of metal on metal and jabbed at him with his shorter sword to get the man to back off of the prone mage. A second one screamed a curse when Keran bit into him, but the third slipped past the two, yelling something about 'blood thralls'.

Solona looked up to see a sword coming straight at her, and she managed to get her palms on the ground and push to the side. The sword buried itself in the wooden floor with a loud crack, the Templar trying to decapitate her cursing when he missed. Wrenching his sword free, he took another swing at her, this time scoring a hit with the tip of his blade from rib to hip. Crimson blood immediately sprang forth, and in a moment of desperation Solona managed to summon a thread of her powers and send a wave of bitter cold through the floor, freezing the Templar's boots solidly to the wood planks.

He nearly came crashing to the floor when he tried to pursue the mage as she hauled herself to her feet with the aid of a chair, but ended up flailing around and dropping his sword instead. Mustering the reserves of her strength, Solona took her staff in both hands and clubbed the Templar across the side of the head with it. He did fall then, collapsing straight on his face, the ice shattering when he went down.

The Templar fighting with Aedan was wounded badly, his face turning an angry purple and bleeding from a broken nose from where it'd been smashed with a shield. Various other wounds bled between the slits in his armor where a deft sword had struck, and he was visibly tired from swinging his two-handed sword around. Aedan was only a little better; his shield crushed inward from a heavy blow and rubbed in all the wrong ways on his shield arm, making it more painful to deflect blows. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Keran warding off the Templar he'd engaged, but wasn't having much success in toppling the fellow.

Suddenly the Templar collapsed where he stood with a gurgling gasp, coughing up blood as he fell only to reveal Kallian standing right behind him with a bloodied sword in hand. She looked drawn and pale under the dirt on her face, the action obviously either having been distasteful to her or else exhausting to perform.

Seeing two of his Templars go down and the third on his way to being beaten, the man holding the vial called for his last remaining conscious comrade to retreat. With a final strike meant to push Aedan back, the two-handed wielding Templar did just that, and the two disappeared back out into the street, Keran following them as far as the door, barking loudly the whole way. Once he turned back to look at Aedan for approval for the job well done did the warrior finally look back at Solona.

She was pale and shaking, her entire side coated with her own blood. She had sat down in a chair, presumably because she could no longer stand and was attempting to heal herself. The brilliant blue healing glow was a dim pathetic light though, her magic severely hampered by whatever the Templars had done to her in the first few seconds of the skirmish.

Quickly Aedan went to her side and checked on the wound, making a face as he did so. "This tops your other prize winner for sure. Maker, he got you good." Solona tried to laugh, but it came out as a pained groan instead and she doubled over her wound, pressing her palm to it as hard as she dared.

"Hate to interrupt the friendly banter, but you ain't safe here." Kallian cut in quickly, her gaze strafing around the room like she expected more Templars to teleport out of the walls. "You got a safe house?"

"No. Nowhere in Denerim is safe now." Aedan replied, offering to help Solona to her feet. She got up slowly, trying hard to hide just how much pain she was in with little success.

"If they've got my phylactery out… Then they've finally decided to hunt me seriously." Solona managed to say through clenched teeth. "They'll be back with more. And soon. I doubt I'd be able to help in this state."

"Kallian, can you get us out of the city?" Aedan watched the elf carefully, wondering if she would decide that tangling up in Templar business was more than she was willing to bargain for.

Apparently she was wondering just that same thing, and kept looking from the Templar that she'd stabbed to the one that Solona had clobbered over the head then to Aedan and back. "I can try."

"That's all I can ask of you." Aedan replied quickly.

"Grab the potions under the floorboard upstairs." Solona whispered through clenched teeth, leaning heavily on a table. "If I use those, I'll be able to keep up, at the very least."

Nodding, Aedan left up the stairs immediately, returning a few minuets later with the travel pack and a half-empty vial of blue lyrium potion in hand, the others that they'd gathered so far tucked away in the pack. Solona downed the drink quickly then healed up the remainder of her wound with her restored power. Her color didn't return, but she wasn't in pain anymore. "Let's go. We've no more time to waste."

"Follow me." Kallian was out the doors quickly and set a fast pace, leading the others though the backstreets of Denerim. She kept clear of any main roads and regularly stopped to look down streets before signaling for them to proceed. They stayed near the river, always only a few streets over from it, using the heavy traffic to stay hidden in plain sight. The walls of the city were in sight when Kallian finally stopped, breathing hard from running and leaning against a building in its shadow.

"This is the last bridge before the exit. Cross it an' follow the trader traffic out." Kallian gestured with her hands the directions, keeping on the lookout for unwanted droppers-in the whole time.

"Thank you." Solona said quietly, likewise out of breath, but handling it better than the bone-skinny elf. "I'm in your debt."

"Yeah, you probably are." Kallian replied with a nod. "But one good turn deserves another. You 'an him took on blood mages an' slavers to get me free. I lead you outta the city 'an stabbed one Templar in the back fer you. Maybe we're even. Maybe I still owe you. Either way, good luck gettin' free."

"We need to go now." Aedan mumbled, seeing a group of people heading for the bridge that they could blend in with easily enough. Solona nodded and with one final look back at Kallian who stood resolutely in the shadow of the building alone, the two headed out of their hiding place and walked toward freedom.

**-0-0-0-**

_There was always a sense of diving underwater when dreams strode into the realm of the Fade. Everything was never as it seemed here, constantly changing shape and form according to the whimsy of the one who shaped it. Solona walked along what appeared to be dry cracked earth pierced by jagged black rocks and scattered with idols of unknown origin. Sometimes they would shift and seem to come alive, but that too was only illusion._

_It was familiar here, uncomfortably so. She felt she knew this place, and her suspicions were confirmed when a tiny little creature skittered across the surface of one of those impossibly cruel looking rocks. "Mouse." She said, folding her arms over her chest and waited until the creature came to her. Running was hardly any use. This was his realm, so any distance she tried to put between herself and the demon was also an illusion. The familiar weight of her staff hung on her back, comforting though that too was not a real physical object._

_The overly large mouse jumped off its rock and bounded toward her, stopping just outside the reach of a good swing with her staff and in a burst of light transformed into a person. He was blonde and had the sort of face that one dared to take a second look at in passing, with a haughty expression despite having claimed on their first meeting that he was a failed apprentice. Well, that and the red robes of a more senior enchanter he was wearing, but illusions couldn't all be perfect._

"_Well well, look who we have here! Never thought I'd see you again in my grasp. Come to take me up on my offer, have you?" Mouse had dropped the innocent act. Both of them knew what he really was, so there was no need to be coy. "I'd still like to see the world through your eyes. The mortal realm seems like such an interesting place."_

"_It's not that exciting. And you'd hardly be thrilled with taking over my body at the moment. You'd be hunted down immediately and killed." She said it calmly, watching Mouse with something that amounted to disinterest. It was true of course, and she wanted to know why she had ended up here, of all places._

"_Oh yes, I know all about that." Mouse smiled, and suddenly Solona felt much less confident about dealing with him this time around. "My little snack has gotten herself into some trouble, yes?"_

"_I was unaware that you were such a gossiper."_

"_No need to be snide, I'm simply concerned that my favorite might be in need of some… help."_

_Oh. That's why she was here. "Everyone can use some help every once in a while. I prefer not to get mine from body-stealing demons, however." She replied, dropping her arms from her relaxed stance, more ready to take action now that the demon's intentions were being made clear. He had drawn her here on purpose, sensing her weakness after the day's battle._

_Mouse looked almost offended. "So suspicious! But I think in your case, you may want to not throw off my offer so quickly. Didn't you feel helpless? Powerless? Could you feel death brushing its icy fingers on you?" His voice had gone low, seductive almost and he began to pace, walking slowly around Solona._

"_I'll have no dealing with you. I didn't before, I won't now." She replied, going stiff and mustering her will against the demon's temptation._

"_But it will happen again, you know it. You __**fear**__ it." The demon replied, the outer image he conjured beginning to waver, showing the towering Pride demon that lurked underneath the handsome mask it had created. "The Templars can overpower you with a thought. A wave of the hand and all of your magic is useless. What will you do when there are no longer others to defend you in your weakness?"_

_Her heart hammered in her chest, cold fear spiking through her. What if- "No! I'll not listen!"_

"_You hardly know this man." The demon took Aedan's form, walking around front of Solona and staring at her, piercing grey eyes boring into her. When he spoke next, it was with Aedan's voice. "This woman brings nothing but trouble. I've protected her because she's useful… but I wonder how much she's worth? There's got to be other mages that can help that aren't being dogged by the Templars."_

"_Stop!" Solona felt the weight of her staff in her hands, a burst of arcane fire leaping from it._

_Mouse/Aedan simply leapt out of the way, cackling and he resumed his blonde handsome form. "What if they come again, and he simply takes off? How will you defend yourself, I wonder? You can't rely on others forever, my pet."_

"_I will make it through on my own power." Solona replied, trying to sound brave, though her voice wavered. "I have before. I can again."_

"_Hmmm, but perhaps there is something I can do for you, in the meantime." He was practically purring with satisfaction, reveling in Solona's disquiet. "We can make a deal. I know things. Old things. Old magic that would make you powerful even when the Templars take the Fade from you."_

"_You speak of blood magic." Solona hissed, her hands glowing with a spell waiting to be cast. "I'll learn no such thing from a demon."_

"_Oh dear, don't simply toss this aside because of what those know-it-alls say. You hate the Templars and their Chantry so, and yet you conform to them so easily… What sort of reasoning is that?" He was waiting; he knew that he had her here._

_She almost didn't dignify that with a response and tried to will herself to wakefulness, but found that it was harder to rise from the Demon's lair than she thought unless the creature was pacified or else killed. "Evil only begets evil. I will not take any deal from a demon. The strings attached to such an ability will be a greater price than I am willing to pay."_

_Mouse shrugged, apparently having heard the argument before and was unbothered by the response. "It seems a lost cause for tonight. But if you should so happen to change your mind…" He turned with a shrug, then smiled at her over his shoulder. "I am but a thought away, my pet…"_

**-0-0-0-**

Solona woke shivering, the rosy light of dawn peeking through the forest that surrounded Denerim's walls. Dew collected on every available surface, a low thick fog blanketing the whole area. A feeling of disgust and panic welled up inside of her, and she squeezed back tears. She'd almost given in to the temptation of the demon, lured by her own mortal weakness and the perceived unreliability of the one person she could still consider a friend.

And Mouse knew it.

* * *

><p>AN: You know I was always disappointed that you never see Mouse again as the Mage Origin. He was a clever little bastard, and he's the one demon that you could talk with but never have the option to kill. I figure that since he was the _original_ demon that you have to face in your Harrowing, that he must have some kind of connection to you. It's a loose end that's never explained or tied up. So, since this is my universe and I can do what I want with it, I brought him back! Yay! Can you smell the sweet scent of resolution? Also, I've decided that we're going on a MWF update schedule type dealieo instead of an "every other day or whenever I feel like it" schedule. As always, thank you all for the support and I hope you enjoy the stuff I keep throwing at our poor heroes.


	9. Refugees

"Aedan, I've a question." The two had made it a day without running into the Templars again after their initial flight from Denerim. Currently they were hidden somewhere south of the city, though had moved more east toward the sea. When it was quiet, Solona could hear the roar of the waves banging against the cliffs from the ocean. Still, they wasted very little time when they put together camp, and only slept for a few hours at a time before moving on. They didn't even bother lighting a fire, knowing that the Templars hot on their heels would only find them out quicker for it.

Aedan was trying for a nap, his eyes closed and arm flung over his eyes with his head resting on the travel pack, wearing only a breast plate with the rest stacked by his side. Keran was nestled up at his side sleeping contently. "I've an answer. Though I don't know if it's to the question you're about to ask." He replied without looking up.

Solona spared him a scathing glance that he didn't see before resuming her train of thought. "Why… are you here?"

There was a long pause, and then Aedan drew a deep breath and sat up, leaning on one arm and looking Solona over carefully. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, why haven't you turned me over to the Templars yet?" The words of Mouse still nagged at her, and the doubt about Aedan's loyalties had slowly been eating away at her willpower to keep from putting thoughts into words.

"Why would I?" Aedan replied easily, regarding her with a slightly confused look on his face.

She was stunned that he could be so thick, wondering if he was putting on an act for her sake, or if he really meant it. "I know that I agreed to help you break in and kill Howe, but if I'm running from Templars constantly… I mean I'm not really much help. There's got to be a better option than me, right? My talents can only be worth so much."

Another heavy pause descended on the camp, the two staring at each other across the few feet that separated them. Solona was half worried that he'd agree with her, and at the same time was hoping that he would. It would be the right thing to do on his part, right? Turn her over to the proper authorities and then go about his way. It was hard to sneak into places with a bunch of men in heavy plate stomping around in your tracks. The silence and uncertainty was making her jittery, so she was about to say more when Aedan finally decided to speak up.

"I have to admit, I thought about it." He shrugged and Solona's heart plummeted, all of her fears finally brought to life. "But I don't think that you deserve the life that the Circle gave you, or the punishment that there is for leaving it. I thought at first that your skills would be useful to me, and so it would be good to have a mage outside the Circle's influence at my side. But after catching a glimpse at the kind of person you are, I don't think that the Chantry is right in its harsh treatment of all mages outside of their control."

Her stomach rose a little, her heart beating faster in her chest. She'd never heard of someone changing their mind about mages before. The Chantry was unwavering in its decree that mages were to be kept under control at all times. Templars might dally around with their charges, but at their core they all believed that mages weren't people to converse with, but things to keep locked up. "What are you talking about?"

"In Highever… I was taught many things. History, war, politics, manners, and of course about the Maker and the Chant. They tell you that the moment mages are let out on their own they turn into abominations and resort to blood magic. That they're crafty and deceitful, and they'll sooner bend your mind to their will than have a civil conversation." His voice was steady, a simple recitation of facts that was without personal bias. It was just a regurgitation of lessons that had been fed to him a distant memory ago. "But, I've not seen such a thing with you. You're clever and wickedly intelligent, but you wear your heart on your sleeve. It is… refreshing in a way to see somebody so honest, especially when you had no reason to be so with me. If you are an example of what normally comes out of the Circle… Well, my opinion of mages has changed somewhat."

Solona was speechless, happy that her representation of the Circle mages had been seen positively by at least one person. But at the same time she felt a sense of guilt gnawing at her conscience, knowing that she'd almost given into temptation to learn blood magic from Mouse. In favor of keeping their friendship intact, Solona chose not to mention this particular detail to Aedan, thinking it best that he wasn't made aware of the tough choice that waited for her ever time she fell asleep.

"What's more, I'd like to think that we were friends." A fragile little smile appeared on his face, the first bit of cheer he'd shown in two days. "These days it seems I have precious few of them. More to my folly if I left my only two-legged companion to her death."

Solona returned the smile with one of her own, feeling relieved that at least one matter was settled. She was confident that Mouse would have one less leg to stand on in their argument of whether or not she should give up her body as a host to the demon. "Thank you Aedan. You have no idea what it means to hear you say that."

"I may know more than you suspect." Aedan replied quietly, his gaze drawn somewhere above her head into the darkness of the forest, lost in silent thought. "We'll figure out a way to break your phylactery. Beat a path leading to the Brecillian forest and loose them that way before heading back to Denerim."

Solona nodded in agreement to the rough plan, her focus wandering. It was a good plan. Except for the part where they actually beat the Templars. So far they had managed to avoid the bulk of ten or so men following them. Either through luck or the fact that their heavier gear and armor slowed them down in the rough forest terrain, whatever the reason, she was grateful. They needed time to come up with some sort of strategy, or a place to defend from where they would have an advantage over the Templars. But that seemed a long shot at best, impossible being the more likely answer.

**-0-0-0-**

Evening was settling over the market district of Denerim. Shops were closing down and people were heading home for the night. The guards that had been standing around twiddling their thumbs and pretending to do their job were moving off to go do other things. Probably more thumb twiddling. Or drinking. Or maybe something illegal.

Whatever the case, Kallian was watching from a distance as the last of them cleared her sight before moving to the next building and resuming the watch from there. The sound of feet followed in her silent wake, but she didn't turn to look, knowing that she'd find two other elves following her as they staked out their hunting ground.

It had been a little more than a week since she'd been free of her captors, and she'd put that time to good use. The Alienage was locked up tighter than an Arl's privy, so there was no returning home. Which meant that come nightfall she was easy prey for any guards that bothered to pay attention. It was practically a rule that any elves found outside the Alienage at night were in desperate need of a clobbering from responsible citizens, after all. So she'd done what she could to pull favors and find others that were in her same situation. Luckily enough, a handful had been eager to quit squatting in front of the Alienage gates and do something productive since they couldn't do anything else.

Four had started her little gang of misfits. One had washed out immediately when she uttered the words "picking pockets", and good riddance, too. She didn't need any weak-willed do-gooders tagging along with her anyway. The second no-go had gotten himself caught by the guards and hauled off to who-knew-where. The last two had proven more trust worthy and useful, though they weren't precisely thief material like Kallian was. Which was why she led the pack, and not them.

Pausing at the corner of a house, she scouted for likely targets. There were a few rag pickers, a trader or two still closing up shop, but there seemed a far more interesting target among the scattering masses. There were two of them, both looking extremely out of place by wearing full armor. One had a shield over his back with the emblem or some Bann or Arl on the face of it, a castle standing on a mountain of red on a field of white, and wore a set of armor that had seen better days. Human, she could tell by the height of him. The second was shorter, obviously an elf, and was apparently not your run of the mill servant. The bow slung across his back was probably the most shocking feature to Kallian, who had never seen an elf display a weapon so proudly. He was also very blonde, and the way he moved reminded her of an expert thief picking careful paths through the shadows in the dead of night.

"Huh." _Must be the bodyguard for the shem._ She thought silently.

"Kallian? What's up?" Oen, one of the ones following her asked, coming up behind her and practically breathing down her neck. He was tall as far as elves went, could probably pass as a human if he wore a helmet to disguise the fine features and pointy ears that defined elves by nature. They knew each other from the Alienage, the drab brown-haired brown-eyed man having been far less drab in the earlier days when they would pretend to be Dalish Crusaders versus the Evil Tevinters.

"By the ashy teats of Andraste, give me room to breathe. I've got a mark." She replied with an exasperated breath, elbowing Oen lightly in the chest to get him to regain a semblance of personal space. Childhood friend or not, she got jumpy when people invaded her personal space. Especially if they were male and roughly human-sized. "Pita," the only other elf woman who'd volunteered to join up with Kallian's insane idea of independence jumped at the sound of her name, her blue eyes taking up the majority of her frightened face. Her brown hair that had been so neatly tied back already seemed to frazzle. Inwardly, Kallian rolled her eyes. "You and Oen distract the two in the armor and I'll cut their purses. I'll run and meet you in the normal spot, 'aight?"

The two nodded and left their hiding place behind the building, walking straight toward the blonde man and his blonde-er elf/servant/guard thing. Kallian followed at a cautious distance, taking the long way around by making sure there were people between her and the marks at all possible times. When Oen and Pita got close enough, Pita suddenly broke out into hysterics that were so convincing, Kallian wasn't entirely sure that she was acting. Oen made a huge show of trying to ask for help, and soon enough practically everyone was staring at the two elves making a scene in the middle of the market square.

She made her move quickly, withdrawing the small knife she'd acquired through less-than-legal means and quickly cut the purse of the armored human then the one of the elf. She was about to make good on her run for it when the elf quite suddenly turned around and stared straight at her, some sixth sense having tipped him off to the theft.

Kallian didn't even blink, taking off at full speed into the darkness of the winding Denerim streets. She heard one of them call for her to stop, the other wondering what precisely had just happened in a very loud voice.

The sounds of the market disappeared, the rush of blood and the sound of her own breathing and the pounding of her feet on the ground taking its place. But there was something alarming that entered her senses as she took every winding turn she could think of on the go. There was someone following her, and they were catching up.

Not just catching up, but catching up quick! _'Andraste's flaming feet, he's fast!'_ Desperately she tried to loose her pursuer by knocking down anything that stood against the walls to try and get him to trip up and loose interest.

Suddenly she was yanked back by the elbow and slammed into a wall, her breath leaving her in a great woosh at the impact. Leather creaked, and she looked up to see a pair of very dark eyes boring into her own, looking very, very pissed. He had her pinned against the wall, his grip firm on her arms and his stance that of someone who was ready to fight. The blonde elf was breathing hard, but not nearly as much as Kallian, who felt like her lungs were on fire.

_Gee, near a month in prison and you're practically useless._ She cursed her own mortality. She was about to speak and offer back his money in exchange for going free when something odd about his face finally registered. He had tattoos. Lots of them. "By Andraste's blessed bloomers, you're _Dalish!"_

The elf snorted. "And whatever gave me away?" His tone was bitingly sarcastic and laden with an accent that she wasn't familiar with. "Give back what you stole and I'll consider lettin' you go."

That snapped her back to the present real quick. "Oh, yeah, sorry." With shaking hands she lifted the pouches of money that she'd stolen between them, offering them up for him to take.

"Tch, a flat-ear runs off with my money and only says sorry for it." The elf muttered, snatching the purses back and holding onto them tightly, taking a step back. "Well? What are you waiting for? Scurry away now. Shoo!" He gestured toward the streets, making motions toward Kallian like one would a stray dog begging for scraps.

She very nearly punched him in the face for it, just barely reigning in that impulse before she could make good on it. Instead she turned and left, having no desire to get tangled up with a well-armed Dalish man that seemed the sort to run one through if you got on his bad side. But she didn't run too far, taking to the roofs instead and tracing her steps back. She followed the elf, he being apparently unaware that he was being followed as he picked his way back to the market place. He met up with the human from before and made some aggravated gestures, tossing the human his pilfered pouch of coins. To Kallian's great surprise, the human didn't retort or make to punish the elf, but instead had the sort of look on his face that a puppy made when it had it's nose flicked. The two left together, heading out of the gates of the marketplace.

With curiosity burning in the back of her mind, Kallian slid down the roof and dropped to the ground, taking up a light jog to go find Oen and Pita. The two were in a pre-arranged meeting spot just outside of the Chantry grounds in the shadow of its stone wall. Both looked a little worried and curious at the same time.

"So?" Oen asked, looking disappointed when he didn't see anything in Kallian's hands.

She shrugged in response, standing a few feet from her cohorts. "The elf caught me up and took his money back."

Pita sniffled, and Kallian was sure that the woman was going to cry. "Don't worry 'bout it. I'm sure we can lift at least one purse at the docks before the night is over."

Oen's shoulders slumped, and for a moment he looked like he'd just heard that his entire family had been mauled to death or something similarly gruesome. "We can't keep doin' this Kallian. The guards are going to get suspicious."

"Ha! As if the guard cares that a few knife-ears are runnin' around makin' trouble. You heard the guard captain the other day. 'Army of Bastards!'" Kallian rolled her eyes. "The new Arl what's put himself in the castle don't know a thing 'bout hirin' good goons. He only knows how to recruit the bad ones. As long as we don't do nothin' too big, they ain't gonna care. No murderin', at the very least. Seems to be the only thing that gets those lot jumpin' to duty." Which for them was both a good and a bad thing.

It was true that the recent flood of sub-par guardsmen made it insanely easy to carry out petty crimes in broad daylight for anyone with a marginal amount of skill. However, it also meant that the commoners were being more cautious without the security of an active guard to put them at ease. Which meant that pick pocketing probably wouldn't be enough, and they would have to resort to robbery in order to buy bread and other necessities. There was also a sharp increase in violent crimes. More and more were wandering the street with mayhem in mind, their courage bolstered by the lack of any real form of punishment for committing heinous atrocities against the citizenry. It was only illegal if you got caught, after all.

With a sigh, Kallian turned and headed out of the alleyway, Oen and Pita following along behind their leader. "Let's just do this. I don't wanna go hungry again tonight."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: **Internet cookies to the first one to correctly guess who we just met this chapter! I'm excited to see if you guys get it.

P.S. Are any of you architects or at least somewhat in-tune with medieval floor planning? If you are, and you don't mind some mild story spoilers, please shoot me a note. I've got some questions. If you don't know, don't worry about it; it's not that big of a deal. Just trying for some historical accuracy. Also, anybody that is deeply knowledgeable about the political system of Ferelden in concerns with the Landsmeet? I'm afraid that I've got some questions that the DragonAgeWiki can't answer for me. Again, if nobody knows, it's alright. I'll just make up something that sounds plausible.


	10. Choices

**A/N:** Congrats to the anonymous reviewer that correctly guessed the cameo of last chapter. I'd give you Internet cookies and hugs, but I've got no idea who you are! And a thanks to JayRain for being a bouncing board, the help was appreciated!

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><p>Something was happening in the Gnawed Noble tavern, and Kallian was curious enough to risk being seen in public near the site of excitement. The Noble was never a place that Kallian would put on her top ten places to get into a brawl, seeing as it was always full of stuffy pompous old men who were more likely to talk your ear off than resort to blows. But this was something serious. The commotion going on inside could be heard from the street just outside, the sound of breaking glass and chairs ringing sharply in the silence that had fallen.<p>

Suddenly the door burst open and two men stumbled out of it, one falling on his face before righting himself. A third was forcibly shoved out the door, and much to everyone's surprise it was an elf who seemed to have done the shoving. Kallian's eyes went wide when she realized that it was the elf she'd tried to cut a purse from the day before, the testy Dalish man looking slightly more ticked off today than he had been earlier.

"By Andraste's blessed knickers…" She mumbled to herself, getting an eye load of the commotion going on with some amusement creeping onto her face.

'_Ticked Off'_ wasn't really an apt description enough. In fact, he looked a bit livid; stomping out behind the man he'd thrown on the ground and roughly picked him up by the front of his armor. The elf hauled the man to eye level, which made the human have to stoop awkwardly to meet his gaze, looking like he'd much rather be anywhere else right about now. The elf wound back his arm and punched the man square in the jaw with an audible crack, a startled cry of pain issuing from the captured human. "Make one more funny about my people shemlen and I'll see to it that a bruised jaw is the last thing you have to worry about."

"Theron! Let him go! He's learned his lesson, surely!" The door of the Noble was suddenly occupied by a woman with short flaming red hair and spoke with a noticeable Orlesian accent. A handful more of men followed in her wake, all of them looking worse for wear except for what was probably her two fellow companions. One Kallian recognized as the blonde puppy-faced human that she'd tried to steal from earlier, the other a very tall and very imposing dark-skinned man with violently purple eyes and white braided hair.

The Dalish elf held the human a bit longer then shoved him away. "Leave now. I'd better not hear trouble from you again, you rot-rooted son of a boar, or the lady's graces won't save you next time." Scrambling, the man and his group of troublemakers beat a quick retreat, shoving their way through the crowd and down to the docks.

Once the display was over Kallian retreated with the crowd as they went about their business, having no desire to be recognized by this Theron fellow when he was in such a foul mood. She kept her eye on them though, following behind at a discrete distance, wondering what the four were up to now. The Red Oars had been a nuisance in the Gnawed Noble for near a week, stirring up all sorts of trouble. Not that Kallian had really cared. Any feather ruffling when it came to rich shems was perfectly reasonable in her personal opinion.

They reported to a man that she recognized as the guard-captain, perhaps the least corrupt guard she had probably ever had the misfortune to meet. If she weren't a thief and he weren't human, she probably would have liked him a great deal. As it was, they were practically archenemies. The captain talked to them for a little bit, money changed hands, and then the group of four was on their merry way to do whatever it was that a group of fully armed people did in a city.

Retreating back to the alleyways, she began pondering what she'd seen. They weren't guards, obviously; they were actually doing something useful, and they weren't wearing the uniform. They seemed a little too clean for commonplace mercenaries, and the redhead was certainly too merciful to be a hired arm. Well, if they were a gang that was going to be staying in the city for good, she'd probably run into them again. Maybe they were refugees from the south. A lot of those had been trickling into and through Denerim recently, carrying with them rumors that a Blight had settled on the land.

Right. She'd believe that when she saw it.

**-0-0-0-**

It was getting harder to run and hide. Sleep was rare in coming, and even when they did catch a break, it wasn't the kind of sleep that they needed. Solona jumped at every little noise and snapping twig, expecting to see glittering armor appear through the forest and the Templars to descend upon them. They'd killed two so far, but the death of a comrade only kept the Templars on edge and they hunted the apostate and her supposed blood thralls with a devotion that only those in religious fervor could maintain.

The strain was starting to show in all of them. Aedan hardly talked when the two were awake, picking their way through the tough underbrush of the Brecilian forest with as much care as they could manage while maintaining a quick pace. He'd left some of his armor behind, either too heavy to carry or too damaged from repeated fights with the heavy hitting Templars to be of any use anymore. Keran walked at his side, the dog also having gone silent. It was hard to tell what an animal felt, but the mabari was dragging too, as exhausted as the humans were by being constantly alert and seeing trouble in every shadow.

It was a little past noon and they were trekking up and down a set of hills that were a dangerous combination of easy sloping leaf-covered ground and rocky cliffs that seemed to jut out of nowhere. They had crossed back over the Drakon River and passed by Dragon's Peak a few days ago, the single monolithic crop of stone so oddly out of place in the flat green forest was the last known landmark that they could navigate by. It was all unknown lands from here on out, and more than once they'd nearly killed themselves by almost falling down one of the sudden cliffs.

Solona found another one and only just managed to avoid it by a few inches, gazing over the edge and gulping. It was a long way down. Keran, walking ahead of them a little bit suddenly stiffened, his lip raising in a growl which only meant one thing.

"Aedan! They can't catch us here! We've only got one way to go!" Panic entered her voice, knowing that even if they weren't trapped between Templars and a cliff that they were in no shape to beat the seven or more men following them. Ahead of them was a large boulder just barely clinging onto the cliff face, the back side of it held in place by a huge oak tree that effectively boxed them off from continuing to go any further along the line of the gulch.

"Don't know if we have much of a choice." He replied gruffly, his voice low and rough from being silent for so long. They could hear the crashing that was always a prelude to the Templars making an appearance. Aedan took a ready stance, Solona falling in behind him and Keran sidling up at his side, hackles raised and a growl on his lips.

Before the Templars could slam a nullifying spell on her she called down the wrath of the heavens, expelling a large amount of mana to call a storm of wind and ice. The wind howled, and a sudden vortex of biting sleet and snow erupted in the trees, coating them with a thick layer of frost. Cries of surprise and agony rose from the darkness of the forest, and then all at once it was gone, a wave of energy silencing the writhing tempest that Solona had caused.

Five Templars emerged from the forest, all of them bearing swords and looking angry and haggard. The forest hadn't been kind to them either. Her skin prickled, and Solona shoved Aedan's back, pushing him forward as a chilling sensation overtook her. It wasn't more than a second later when a blast of energy overwhelmed her and she felt the all-too familiar draining sensation as the force of the Templar's will brought her to her knees. Once she had been able to resist the staggering effects of such a powerful force, but in her weakened state she just wasn't up to mustering the willpower to stay standing after such a blow.

Aedan staggered forward after being shoved so forcefully and felt the concussive blast wash over him with little effect. The Templars rushed forward as a group and Keran howled as he rushed to meet them head on, seemingly completely unafraid of the numbers stacked against them. A templar with shield and sword met the dog's charge, swinging for a kill with his shield guarding his flank. Keran ducked under the whistling blade and barreled straight into the man, knocking him to the ground where he attempted to tear into the Templar's throat.

Two more Templars bearing two-handed swords came to defend their fallen comrade. One was cut short of the pursuit when Aedan intercepted him, slamming his shield into the right arm of the Templar. A metallic crunch and a startled cry of pain resulted, and the Templar tried to hack at Aedan awkwardly with only his left hand. The blade sunk into the leafy forest floor readily, and Aedan took the momentary pause to hit the Templar's hand with the pommel of his sword. The man let go of his blade and quickly tried to fall back when Aedan very nearly took off his head.

Solona regained her footing, the horrid sensation of the Templar's attempt to nullify her finally starting to wear off. She palmed her staff and with a thought froze the second Templar mid-swing as he went to try and chop Keran in half horizontally. Another shield bearing Templar moved in to join the fray and Solona quickly cast a spell of weakening, the Templar stumbling as his knees nearly gave out from under him and took the moment of his shocked state to draw on his life energy, stealing more of his resolve to continue the fight.

Something moved out of the corner of her eye and she turned in time to see a flash of silver. Pain bloomed in her shoulder and she staggered backward totally silent, the blade that had stabbed her gleaming red in the dimming light. The Templar struck again, meeting her staff, but even though the blow didn't draw blood she could feel her connection to the Fade draining away with every strike. It dawned on her then: This was utterly hopeless. They would probably die here in the middle of some forest; a maleficar and her supposed blood thralls.

Aedan and Keran were struggling on the front of the battle. The one that Keran had downed was dead, his sword taken up by the other whose arm Aedan had crunched was wielding the dead man's shorter sword in his good hand. Two archers had made themselves apparent, one on the far edge of the fight and fired off an arrow that hit Aedan's shield with a _ping_, the other daring a shot into the middle of the scuffle. His gamble paid off, and the arrow buried its head into Aedan's shoulder though a chink in his armor. The one awkwardly wielding a sword took the advantage presented and slid his blade into the soft flesh of Aedan's side, causing the man to double over the wound in pain, hot blood pouring out of the deep cut and down his side.

Solona screamed something, she wasn't entirely sure if it was his name or a denial as she watched him collapse, shoved to his knees by the Templar who'd done him the injury. Keran tried to defend Aedan, going for the legs but was stopped when the second shield-bearing Templar hit him with his shield in the side hard enough to get the mabari hound staggering backward with a cry of pain.

The dual wielding templar facing her laughed, cocking his arm back to deliver the killing blow on Solona, who had all but dropped her staff as the hopelessness of the situation began to consumer her. "Time to meet the Maker, apostate." His eyes were hard, almost cruel and filled with far too much enjoyment at the thought of seeing a mage die at his hands.

She dug her fingers into her wound, the pain bringing her back to the here and now. "No." She hissed, feeling the pull to use the power inherent in her blood. She could feel it's dark seduction, the call to protect herself from death growing stronger with each pulse of her rapidly beating heart. She wanted to live.

The Templar seemed confused at the confident denial. His eyes flicked to the bloody wound that he'd inflicted in her shoulder, and he realized too late what was happening. He tried to stab her through the heart and end it before she could perform the spell but was suddenly knocked off of his feet as power almost literally exploded from her small form, blood seeming to make a protective barrier around her.

She could _feel_ the ebb and flow of life, the beating hearts of those around her. Without looking she reached out and clenched her fist where she felt the hammering heart of the nearest templar pounding. He cried out in pain when his heart stuttered, blood ceasing to flow and then he collapsed. Seeing the display of power the other Templars attacking Aedan and Keran stopped what they were doing, looking at her with a mixture of fear and disgust.

Power whispered in her ear, and she sought out the flow of their blood. Pain lanced through her entire being when she cast the spell that came unbidden to her mind and the Templars froze where they stood, unable to move once they'd become part of her spell and silently writhing in pain as their blood boiled in their veins. The two archers aimed and started firing; one shot a near miss and the other inflicting a deep wound in her leg. Drawing on her own life force she froze one solid and the other simply collapsed when the strength in his body failed him.

"Stop there maleficar!" Solona's gaze whipped around to see that one Templar still stood, glowing vial of blood at his hip and a sword in hand, holding Aedan by his hair with his neck exposed, blade resting on the unprotected flesh. She wasn't sure if Aedan was still conscious or not, his thread of life was ebbing so slowly in comparison to the bigger Templar.

"Put him down." She said in a soft deadly voice that promised bad things for the Templar if he didn't comply. His companions were either twitching in pain or otherwise disabled. He was alone, but so was she. Keran was nearby but refused to move, favoring his right forepaw and growling at the Templar, baring his teeth at the man. She could feel both of their lives connected to hers, the slow sluggish pulse of Aedan and the adrenalin spiked racing of Keran's blood.

"You've nowhere to go but death, maleficar. Give yourself up now and your precious thrall will live beyond you." The Templar was dead serious; thinking rightly that the mage wouldn't be at all pleased if the man or his dog died if she could prevent it.

She almost complied, almost let the throbbing power of her own blood go, but the whisper was convincing in her ear.

"_I know things. Old things. Old magic that would make you powerful even when the Templars take the Fade from you."_

"You will not take another life from me." The Templar tensed as Solona forced her will on the man and felt power rush into her at the same time. A clash of wills so powerful that it was nearly visible ensued. His defenses were considerable, years upon years of Chantry training and belief in the Divine steeling his resolve not to be possessed. But she was desperate, angry, and deadly afraid of dying.

His will gave way, shattering like so much glass and scattering before her, and she latched onto his consciousness. "Now you'll kill the other Templars here, and then yourself."

**-0-0-0-**

Aedan woke with his head throbbing, still covered in blood and feeling like he'd been punched on every conceivable part of his body. What's more he was bone weary, feeling every day that they'd been running in this Maker damned forest all at once. He sat up and looked himself over. All of his armor had been taken off, the last of the mangled and blood splattered pieces piled up at his side. His clothes were stained with blood and sweat still, but there didn't appear to be any open wounds on his body that he could immediately see. Bumps and bruises and a fair number of scratches, but no bleeding wounds.

At his side, Keran groaned, looking up from the task of licking himself clean off the gore that the battle had left on his muzzle and body. The mabari licked Aedan's face once then gazed at the fire for a moment before returning to licking himself. Aedan was surprised to see that there was a fire at all, and wondered if maybe the Templars had taken him captive… Which would mean that Solona was dead. His heart sank at the thought, and he looked around to try and figure out what was going on.

What he saw definitely wasn't the result of being taken in by Templars. He was still near the cliff that they'd fought by, the metal armor of the Templars gleaming in the light cast by the fire. They were scattered around, the one closest to him seeming to have had his throat slit, a dark pool of blood gathered around him in the grass and leaves. He counted the bodies and quickly deduced that all of the ones that had come after them were dead. He moved to stand and quickly abandoned the idea when a bout of dizziness overcame him, remaining on the ground and continued to look around.

The last thing he remembered was the Templar whose arm he'd broken standing over him, ready to deliver the final blow. What had happened after he'd blacked out? Was it even possible that Solona had managed to wreak such destruction on her own after he'd been cut out of the battle?

His gaze stopped wandering when he saw a small form huddled across the fire from him, and immediately he knew it was Solona from the color of her hair. She had her face buried against her knees, arms wrapped around her shins. He wasn't sure if she was sleeping or crying. "Solona?"

Her gaze suddenly snapped up, and he could see that her face was spattered with blood, her shoulder absolutely soaked with it. She'd been crying, it was easy enough to tell even in the uncertain light of the fire. Hastily, the mage wiped at her face, looking absolutely miserable. "Sorry." She breathed in a shaky voice and sniffed. "I didn't know you were awake already. It's the middle of the night."

He took a moment to look her over, wondering what had happened to put her in such a state. Was she that distressed that they'd both nearly died, or relieved that it was finally over? A glass vial sat next to her foot, empty save for air. "It's alright, you didn't wake me. What happened?"

Immediately her expression became guarded and solemn and she bit her lip. "I killed them." She replied, gesturing with one hand toward the carnage that surrounded them. "All of them. I just got so… angry and-" She stopped, her throat closing off because of the emotion that was threatening to choke her as tears clouded her eyes.

Aedan got to his feet despite the wave of dizziness and groaning muscles that begged him to sit back down. He stood at her side momentarily then slowly knelt, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "It's over Solona, your running is done."

He was suddenly caught up in a massive hug, the slight mage having thrown her arms around him and buried her face against his chest, sobbing heartily. At first he wasn't entirely sure what to do with the crying woman, then let his arms fall around her shoulders and let her cry as long as she needed to.

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><p><strong>AN:** Alright, so, this chapter displays what I'm going to refer to as the Jowan-Effect.

**The Jowan-Effect:**_When a mage uses blood magic in public for the first time against an enemy and somehow proves to have mind-boggling powers, despite the apparent weakness of the mage. However, after this first-time use, the mage reverts to being useless with blood magic, and has to re-learn all those awesome super mega powers that can fell a swath of Templars with one violently bleeding wound._

There really is no other way to explain it! I mean, if Jowan can down the First Enchanter, the Knight Commander, and a handful of other Templars and _then_ managed to get himself across the lake somehow, then how is it that he can't take out Redcliffe's guards and run for the hills? It can be argued that he finally grew a conscience and a spine, but there's only so much torture a man can take before he breaks, and apparently Isolde had him tortured quite a bit when Connor started going nuts. You'd think that he'd use his blood magic to knock them all out and break loose rather than continuing to endure that. Death is still death, whether via Templar or an angry Arlessa, and last I checked he wasn't a fan of being locked up.

Also, I hope that you guys like my M!Mahariel as much as I do. He's such a fun bundle or rage to write. Now, why did I choose M!Mahariel instead of F!Mahariel or one of the dwarf origins? Because M!Mahariel gets no love. There are a scattering of F!MaharielxAlistair/Zevran scattered around the ffnet, but a male version is practically unheard of. Further more, if you're looking for some Aeducan/Brosca action, I highly suggest you go to deviantArt and check out the artist *aimo. She's got some awesome F!AeducanxAlistair going on over there, and it's really worth a look if you don't mind the height difference.


	11. When it Rains

_She hadn't planned on sleeping tonight. She thought to keep herself awake moping in her own self-inflicted misery over the events that had finally led to her freedom. She was tired, hurt, distraught that she'd had to resort to blood magic to secure her own survival, but she was __**free**__. Fully, truly free of the ties that had kept her looking over her shoulder. The last leash that could have possibly dragged her back to a life at the Circle had been severed. But she knew that there was a cost, and it presented itself the moment that her eyes had finally slipped closed._

_Again she found herself in an all-too familiar clearing among the Fade. Rolling earth cracked from dryness as if it had never seen rain, hulking jagged twisted rocks that protruded from odd places, and statues of some lost culture that seemed to come alive when you weren't looking directly on them. The ground shook as some lumbering Fade beast walked toward her, and Solona spun to see a large purple demon stomping her way. It was taller than a house and nearly as wide, all covered in muscle and spikes, multiple beady black eyes inlaid into a flat shield-like face. Nervousness flared in her belly and she gripped her staff, trying to wake. She had no wish to face off with a demon of Pride…_

_When the creature came within easy charging distance it began to glow. Light swirled around its figure and the creature condensed into a human-shaped form of pure energy and light. When the glow faded, she saw that it was Mouse, his haughty expression turned on her in full. "I am glad you finally accepted my offer. Doesn't it feel good to have such power? To dominate the field so completely with a wave of your hand?" He walked within arms length and then placed his hands on his hips, his voice practically purring with pleasure._

_She felt dirty with him staring at her like that, felt horrible that she had indeed succumbed to temptation when she had been thrust between a rock and a hard place, quite literally. Solona gripped her staff harder, her nails digging into the wood of her staff. "I will not use it again." She swore, feeling anger at Mouse and her own weakness bubbling just beneath the surface. "I am free of my tethers. I don't need your wretched blood magic anymore, or any other power you'd like to tempt me with. Be gone, and bring me to this place no more. You will only receive the same answer, no matter what lies you whisper to me."_

_Mouse narrowed his eyes, the illusion of the man flickering to reveal the snarling face of the Pride demon that lurked just beyond the façade. "You think to send me running with such a display of bravado?" He hissed, thrusting his arms behind him and holding one wrist with his other hand, presumably to keep from pummeling Solona. He began to pace slowly around her, like a predator that stalks its prey, eyes narrowed dangerously. "You are mistaken if you think you can simply __**forget**__ what I have taught you. It is not some obscure lesson that one can study for the sake of passing a hurdle. No, it is ingrained in you now. The magic has always been in your blood, but you were too weak, too shy and cowed by useless trivialities to try and tap the wealth of power that laid within you, that still lies dormant!"_

_She watched him cautiously, following his movements though keeping her feet planted firmly. His angry face had switched to one of sly cunning, a look that she disliked far more than his barely tamed rage._

"_Can you draw upon your powers without thinking of the destruction that you __**could**__ unleash, if only you willed it?" He paused at her side, lifting his hands and the image of faceless men in the all too familiar armor of Templars appeared at his sides, surrounded them in a ring of gleaming metal. "It felt good, didn't it? To feel the pulse of another, to reach out and take control of his body, his __**mind,**__ and know that he was yours?"_

_One of the Templars charged her, and Solona quickly sent out a spell, ice coating him from head to toe when he was no more than a foot away. Angrily, she brought down her staff and shattered the illusion, smoke scattering from the icy shell as it broke and faded quickly into the air._

"_You could kill them with a thought." Mouse whispered, suddenly standing at her side, his breath tickling her ear. A shudder of revulsion ran down her spine. "You could make them kill each other with a thought. You'd only have to think it and spill your blood, let the glorious power surge forth." With a wave, the demon bade the illusions of the Templars disappear, dissolving into puddles of blood that seeped into the dry cracked earth. One remained however, standing directly in front of her, his sword sheathed and a shield bucked on his back. "But control is not always about killing." His voice had dropped low, almost a seductive purr, and he gestured toward the single remaining Templar._

_He took off his helmet slowly with both hands, and Solona couldn't help but to go rigid. She would have recognized that jaw anywhere, and the slow reveal only confirmed her suspicions. It was Aedan, his hair slightly rumpled from sitting under the helmet and his chin dark and unshaven. But there was something wild about his face in the Fade; perhaps it was the look in his eyes, or the sharpened planes of his face. There was a ripple of power around his body, and she knew that he was no mere illusion, but something of more substance than simple Fade smoke._

_Mouse was at her other ear now, and she felt his hands on her shoulders, guiding her forward even as Aedan walked to meet them. "Why deny yourself your desire for him?" He whispered, and didn't wait for her to answer the question. "Because he will not look at you. You are a mage, and you know what he is. He has been long mentored by your Chantry and their frightened blathering. He fears you deep in his heart; you are no more than a tool. Once you have fulfilled his designs, he will leave."_

_She shook her head, though her eyes remained locked to Aedan's passive grey ones. "He doesn't fear me. He is not a mindless servant of the Chant."_

"_You thought he spoke truthfully?" Mouse asked, a great deal of astonishment in his voice, as if no sane non-mage would ever actually say as much with a straight face. "You are a clever girl, surely you didn't believe his guile." When Solona didn't immediately come up with a clever retort, Mouse pressed on. "Embrace what I have to teach you, and you will be able to make him forget his fears. You could make him follow you unquestioningly." He pushed her forward a step until she was practically chest to chest with him._

_This close she had to crane her neck back slightly to meet his eyes, and when she did her breath caught. He was looking at her like… well, like she didn't know what precisely, but it was so hard to look away, to even breathe. An impulse to draw into his arms overwhelmed her and she nearly followed it, only the sight of his Templar armor stopping her. He would never wear such a thing. "No." She hissed, gripping her staff hard and turning her face downward with the greatest amount of will she could muster._

_Behind her, Mouse quickly grew irritated, but she didn't care, whirling on him. "I will not take anything more you have to offer, __**demon**__. I did not escape the chains of the Circle only to have you throw more on me."_

_He growled, the illusion of the human body flickering to reveal the more intimidating demon body that was his true self. "You will not deny me your body." He hissed._

_Suddenly she felt arms around her, holding her staff from behind. Solona recognized the hands immediately, and the ugly barren landscaped morphed and changed to that of a forest lit only by a small campfire and the stars that looked on silently overhead. They were in a clearing, Mouse had vanished, and she could feel the solid presence of Aedan's body behind her, his lips close to her ear. "I will protect you." He murmured, voice low and gruff. There was an odd simultaneous overtone and undertone to his voice, a strange distortion that shouldn't have been there. "We could remain like this forever." He pulled her closer by drawing her staff towards himself, pressing his chest firmly against her back and trapping her between the solid mass of his body and the wooden staff that they both held. His lips found her jaw, brushed it lightly as a breeze then worked lower toward her neck._

_Solona nearly gave in, a strange haze clouding her mind. 'It's all so wrong.' She thought, reflexively gripping her staff when the Fade-Aedan planted a long slow kiss on her neck. 'He would never…' Power flared in her staff, and the air around her suddenly skyrocketed in temperature. Fade-Aedan jerked back with a cry that very distinctly held the overtones of a womanly scream, and Solona whirled, pointed her staff directly at the armored chest. She saw purple skin under the illusion of Aedan's well-tanned face, horns spiraling from his forehead in the shadows when the firelight flickered. 'So, Mouse has recruited a Desire demon into his enclave?'_

_That worried her, and before the Desire demon could try and re-enslave her with its sexual wiles, she summoned lightning and ice from her fingers, shocking then freezing the demon solid. The illusion of the forest wavered and dissipated. 'A weak Desire demon, however.' The hulking form of Mouse in his full demonic glory hovered nearby, looking very angry._

"_I'll have no more of this, Mouse!" Solona yelled, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice. She retreated a step, brandishing her staff and gathered her will, feeling the demon press against her attempt to escape his realm that he'd drawn her to. "I want no deals from you, no more power. I have no desire or want for it. LEAVE ME ALONE!" All at once she let her mana burst forth, a terrible wave of fire exploding seemingly directly on Mouse's head. He screamed and his will to keep her pressed in the Fade wavered and disappeared. She took the small opportunity to escape, her Fade-self fading as she returned to her mortal body._****

**__-0-0-0-**

Solona woke with a start, sitting bolt upright with her heart pounding and a cold sweat on her brow. A big warm body lay next to her and she looked down fearing to see that maybe he hadn't woken up after all and the Desire demon had perhaps conjured Aedan or else her brief Templar lover next to her in an attempt to sway her. But when she looked down she didn't see metal, leather or even bare skin, but fur and solid muscle.

A sigh escaped her lips in relief, and she sunk her hands into the thick but short fur of Keran, glad that she had woken up next to Mabari. The huge dog stretched and cast a baleful look on her, then resumed sleeping, his big head having been nestled on her leg just above her knee.

It was dark yet, though the moon was no longer out and the barest hint of the approaching dawn was lighting the sky, turning it from the deep velvety blue to a lighter grey. Her eyes cast around the small hollow they had bedded down in, a mere gap in the trees with a large boulder that seemed to be supported by two terribly large old oak trees looming over them and providing shelter from the weather. The remains of a fire smoldered just a few feet away, and within arm's reach lay Aedan, his back turned to her, chest expanding and receding with the even deep breaths of sleep.

It took a good few moments before Solona trusted herself to lay back down and look up at the stars overhead. Her limbs trembled from the memory of the nightmare, knowing that Mouse would not give up on his quest to obtain her body for his own designs, despite having dropped a powerful fireball on his head. That more than nearly being tempted by the Desire demon set her to worrying. She could hold off Mouse, but between his silvery tongue and the powerful grip that the Fade-Aedan seemed to have on her, she didn't know how _many_ times she could fend them off. Fighting the temptations that they presented of power and more… physical things had been mentally wearing, despite having nearly slept through the whole night. Spending her nights battling demons and her days battling through the ever-thickening forest as they headed farther south and west to lead a false trail for any Templars that might come looking for them, she would be utterly exhausted in a few short days in every respect. What's more, the Veil seemed to be getting thinner the farther through the forest they traveled. She could feel the whispers of the Fade even in her waking moments here, which was disturbing to no end and no doubt made it far easier for Mouse to hunt her down and drag her unconscious mind into his little corner of the Fade.

She lay on her side, head pillowed in the crook of her arm with Keran's head now resting on her thigh instead since she'd shifted positions. Her hand wandered the muscles of the mabari's strong back, knowing that she'd smell entirely of dog the next day but didn't particularly care. Solona had a sneaking suspicion that he'd known she was having a nightmare and had tried to comfort her as she'd seen him do with Aedan on numerous occasions when the man had lapsed into brooding silence.

Her thoughts wandered over the events directly after putting the Templars out of their misery for good. She was sure that Aedan didn't know she had used blood magic, having probably passed out before things got gruesome and been too weary and near death to notice the initial surge of power. He'd been gentle and quiet with her ever since she broke down and made his whole front wet by sobbing all over it. During questioning afterwards she'd told him that she was just so relieved it brought her to tears, and so scared of nearly dying in the process that she'd hardly even realized she'd trapped the poor man in a death grip. Afterwards, Aedan had dragged the bodies of the dead Templars together and Solona had given them a makeshift pyre by setting them aflame, their corpses burning to ash in the more or less traditional Ferelden way.

The Templars had come far more better equipped to be trekking out in the wilds than they had, and without a second thought they had pilfered the bodies before setting them to rest. They had food now, as well as gear for bedding down, though since the night was so clear they hadn't bothered to put up the small tent that they'd scavenged. They also had food now, and the Templars had been sneaking lyrium dust with them to fuel their addiction to the stuff and power necessary to take down a rogue mage. She was still in shock that she'd been able to fell them all, but then again Jowan had mustered enough power to take out several Templars including the Knight-Commander and the First Enchanter in one fell swoop when he'd run from the tower. If he could do it as an apprentice, then she as a fully harrowed mage shouldn't have been so surprised that she could muster the same amount of power when her life was on the line.

Her thoughts turned back toward the end of that battle, her fingers flexing unconsciously to mimic the motions she'd used to summon her power at the behest of the blood magic. Magic had sung in her veins, and though she felt dirty for betraying her deepest set moral, at the time it would have been thrilling if she weren't so out of her mind with desperation. The draw to use it was incredible, though it was painful to convert her very life into dangerous spells. As her mind replayed the events she realized with no small amount of horror that not only had she used the foul gift against the Templars, but Aedan and Keran had probably suffered for it as well. She had been deeply in tune with them, monitoring the flow of their life force in that final confrontation between her and the last remaining Templar. Energy that wasn't her own had flooded her body and helped her to dominate the last opponent. Was it possible that she had taken that power from Aedan and Keran without doing it on purpose? She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling more sadness and horror well up within her. What sort of monster was she?

Keran shifted under her hand, standing and stretching with a huge yawn then turned and licked her face with a big slobbery tongue. Solona pushed his face away with a noise of disgust, wiping at the mabari spit that was now all over her cheek. "I don't know where your mouth has been, dog." She grumbled, using a corner of her cloak to wipe away at the slobber, though still felt rather nasty despite drying it all off. "You kill people with that thing."

Apparently completely unaffected by Solona's rejection of his show of affection, Keran grabbed her sleeve in his mouth and started tugging until she stood with a sigh and a roll of her eyes. "You had better not be dragging me off to chase rabbits." She mumbled, following the dog as he walked in front of her, navigating through the forest with his stubby tail wagging furiously.

By the time that morning broke over the forest in full, Solona was feeling much better about everything, having had to chase down Keran randomly throughout the forest, only for the dog to eventually lead her back to camp where Aedan had managed to thoroughly tangle himself up in his sleeping mat. She couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her at the sight, wondering what sort of dreams he had to get him into such a state when he was normally so still. With the unpleasantness of her dreams pushed out of mind for the moment Solona took a long while to simply think about the fact that there would be no more Templars coming after her, at least not on purpose.

There would no doubt be pursuit, for the Chantry never liked to simply let a rogue mage go, especially one that had taken out ten Templars in the course of a week and a half running through the Brecilian forest. No doubt they would cast a wide net looking for her, but unless one recognized her face or else saw her doing magic, then she had nothing to fear. This false trail leading southward would hopefully put them off her tracks for a while yet, and would they even suspect her to go back to Denerim and sit right under their noses? It was a reckless plan, she knew, but she felt like being a little reckless after playing it safe for so long. She was free to do whatever she wanted now. Absolutely and utterly free.

When Aedan got up it was to find Solona smiling vaguely and humming to herself, tending the fire and munching on some of their pilfered provisions, Keran sitting close to her side and gnawing determinedly at a strip of meat she'd provided for him. She looked up when she heard him stirring, and offered a wide smile. "Good morning."

Though glad to see that she wasn't weepy anymore, he was surprised to see her in such good spirits. Aedan sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and scratching absently at the rather pronounced stubble now covering the entirety of his jaw. _'What I wouldn't give for a good soak and a shave…'_ He thought with a yawn, feeling sore all over from the running and the fighting and the sleeping on awkward hilly landscapes. "You seem rather chipper this morning."

Her smile dimmed a little, but it picked back up again. "I have no reason to complain." Solona replied, taking another bite of a hard biscuit that she'd rummaged from their food stock. "I'm sorry if I startled you last night. It's just… difficult wrapping my mind around this new freedom. I'm better today."

Rolling his shoulders to alleviate some of the tenseness, Aedan nodded. "Good to hear. We should spend a few more days heading toward the mountain range before doubling back and trying to find the Imperial Highway."

Solona nodded. "It sounds good." She watched silently as he got up and grabbed a hard biscuit and a strip of meat, looking a little on the slow side as he did so. It was good to have one night of rest finally after running for so long, but it didn't alleviate all of the lingering weariness, or the kinks that came from accidentally sleeping on rocks in the night. "Aedan…" She waited until he looked up, a curious look on his face as he swallowed. "Thank you for sticking with me. I'm… I owe you a great debt for this."

A hint of a smile twitched at the corner of his lips, and he bowed his head slightly. "I promised you my aid, and that is what was given. When a Cousland makes a promise, they keep it. Loyalty is prized above all else in my family, and that is how I was taught."

Her heart ached, thinking back to the quiet rage that he had displayed when recounting the downfall of his family and for the first time began to understand the depth of the treachery that he had spoke of. In the Circle, promises were often made and seldom kept, except for any promise of pain or punishment given by Templars. Those were always followed up on in one form or another. "All the same thank you, truly."

He nodded and they elapsed into quiet relaxed silence as the morning rolled on and the forest came alive around them.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> Ah, but freedom is never free, now is it? The problem with Mouse continues with our intrepid duo as they stumble around in the Brecilian like a couple of n00bs. I promise a Kallian chapter next~!

PS: Do you actually get more reviews if you ask for them?


	12. Knifers

The quiet patter of feet on wooden tiles was all that could be heard of the small group of elves that passed over the roofs. Like phantoms in the night, the small four-man team dashed over the winding paths that the housetops made, leaping with near silence when there was a break over a street, always heading in the general direction toward the great peak that was Fort Drakon.

Wood tiles became clay shingles as they passed from the ramshackle houses to multi-story finely laid out buildings that the rich inhabited. They came to a halt as one with a raised fist from the lead elf that padded quietly to the edge of the building and dropped down onto a balcony below. Crouched low, her vivid green eyes scanned the surroundings, looking for any hint of movement in the dark house. When no one appeared disturbed by her sudden appearance, she quickly tried the door and slipped inside, then snapped three times.

Behind her, the other three elves dropped onto the balcony as well with varying amounts of silence and grace. Kallian watched from inside the threshold of the door with bated breath, counting to twenty after the last one had dropped before ghosting through the house. She seemed to flicker from view as she went, using the shadows to her advantage as she ghosted from one side of the room to the other, placing her hand on the door knob on the opposite side and pushed gently, emerging into a narrow hallway. The candles had been blown out for the night, which kept the hall totally dark save for patches of pale moonlight that streamed through the windows. Signaling over her shoulder, the other three elves surged forward at the all-clear sign and spread out around the house.

In the group were Oen and Pita, the timid girl being much more confident stealing from unwary minor nobility in the dark when everyone was asleep than during the day had volunteered her services. The third of her companions was a new elf called Rido, a man who was only about as tall as Kallian was, which made him shorter than Pita and a dwarf compared to Oen. But he was quick witted and deft with a lock pick, though his sneaking skills were rough compared to Kallian's near silent movement. He had black hair and dark brown eyes, his only true physical distinction being a tattoo on his face given to him by a surface dwarf, the geometric pattern on his cheek instantly recognizable against his fairly pale skin.

All of them were dressed plainly, unable to afford anything more than typical peasant clothes complete with dirt stains and rips in the sleeves and on the hems. Kallian and Rido sported thick belts at their waists that held their lock picking supplies and other things necessary for thieves that had either been fairly stolen or rightfully smuggled into the city. Aside from their poor appearance, all of them had been issued a strip of red cloth to wear on their person at all times, the sign of their small gang, the Knifers. Anyone not connected to the underbelly of Denerim would probably not know what the red cloth signified, but other gangs would immediately know. It was both a target and a safeguard, protecting them from less influential gangs and making them a target for larger ones that had a bone to pick or wanted to eliminate some competition. Kallian wore two as the leader, the cloth wrapped around her scarred wrists and hands like gloves.

A few of the doors that Pita and Oen tried were locked, so Kallian dug out her lock picking kit and bent in front of the knobs, tinkering with them until they clicked open. Rido did the same with a storage closet that Pita had tried and failed to open, the nervous woman disappearing into the darkness as soon as the door was open. Kallian stood at the top of the flight of stairs to keep watch over things, signaling silently for Rido to go downstairs. They had discussed needing food earlier at the hideout, so he made his way down the stairs eagerly, looking forward to bringing back fresher food than what they had stored back at their place.

Rido returned shortly with a bulging pack, grinning to Kallian in the dark and headed back toward the door that they'd originally come through. Once everything that could be easily pawned was secreted away in the now bulging packs, they all followed, stealing off into the night and back toward the docks.

Some weeks ago, Kallian had found what may have one point been a brewery, but it was now utterly abandoned and boarded up. It had long gone out of business when the basement had flooded and remained waterlogged even to this day. Being so close to the shore, Kallian had not been surprised to find brackish water quietly pooled under the wooden floor of the first story. Since then she Oen and Pita had set up the top floor into something that resembled a barrack. There were mattresses that they'd either stolen or otherwise fairly acquired spread out on the floor, complete with all manner of mismatched blankets. They had a few crates that they used to store food and goods waiting to be pawned off for money stacked in a dark corner where a pile of hay had formerly been sitting.

Their activities hadn't gone unnoticed by the other thieves in the area, and between recruiting for new members and having stray elves turn up on their doorstep unbidden, the Knifers were now a group seven strong, and amassing street credit that kept others out of their hide-out at a startling rate with Kallian leading them on near nightly raids. Only once had another band tried to oust them from what they claimed to be "their" territory by the docks, but that had ended quite quickly with only one of them leaving mostly intact, his other partners in crime left bleeding in an alleyway.

Since then Kallian had strove to teach the others how to defend themselves in a knife fight, imparting on them the knowledge that she'd received from her mother. It was slow going, and they weren't any sort of dangerous force to take out a squad of guards, but that would change in time. Only one of her fellows she considered a possible equal, an elf that claimed to have formerly been part of another gang but had willingly left it when he heard that an all-elf group lead by a phantom had started dominating the docks.

She wasn't entirely sure what his real name was, though she _was_ entirely positive that his real name wasn't "Sticker", which was how he'd introduced himself when he asked to join her gang and pledged his loyalty to her cause. He spoke very little, and when he did it was in a strangely deep voice that didn't at all match his otherwise mousy profile. He had orange-red hair and green eyes that bordered more on yellow than anything, and was average physically in every possible way as far as elves went. Though he'd obviously been at the game for a long time if the numerous scars from knife fights decorating his arms were anything to tell by. He'd come with his own set of long knives that bore the emblem of the guard on their hilts and was wicked quick with them. Kallian had itched to test her skills on him, having not done any serious fighting at all since her botched escape attempt from the Denerim estate. Her time in prison had dulled her skills with blades considerably, and her physical state had suffered tremendously being malnourished kept chained to a wall unable to move.

When they arrived, Sticker and two other elves, Sola and Noris were sitting talking to each other in the center of the barn. Sticker looked up and nodded at their presence before resuming listening to whatever tale Noris was weaving animatedly.

Sola and Noris had come as a package deal, the brother and sister having been locked out of the Alienage when it was closed up before they could return home from their job cleaning some noble's house. Caught outside the Alienage at night, both had been detained for two days before being released out on the streets. Their employers would hear no excuses however, and so the two had been going hungry ever since. They recognized Kallian and begged to join up with her group, pledging to learn anything that they could to help out. She'd let them on, and since then the two had nestled up to Sticker like chicks to a mamma bird. He'd been teaching them blade work, so she often left the three behind to guard the hideout when the other four left on a job.

Sola was more interested in their return than Sticker was, and got up from where she sat to come and take the heavy bag that Kallian was holding, grimacing as she hefted it over her shoulder. "Looks like you did good tonight."

"Aye." Kallian replied, rolling her shoulders to alleviate some stiffness. "Our obvservin' paid off. There wasn't nobody in the house. It was a clean sweep."

Sola smiled and took the bag over to the corner with the crates, dropping it along with the others who assimilated in the center of the room to listen to Noris weave his tale. Except for Pita. She retired to a corner with her drawn expression and crawled into bed, remaining silent for the rest of the night. Sola stayed near Kallian though, following their leader as she went to unbuckle the belts that wound around her shoulders and stomach that held on the dual long knives that were attached to her back, then pulled off her boots with a grunt.

"Kallian I've a… question…" She hedged, taking a careful perch on a mattress near the one that Kallian had claimed as her own, watching as the redheaded elf continued to dress down. When Kallian didn't react beyond pulling off her other boot, Sola continued. "The situation with the Alienage…"

Kallian sighed, dropping her boot and leaning her forearms against her knees, legs crossed on her mattress. "Sola… We've talked 'bout this."

"I know but…" She bit her lip and twisted a lock of auburn hair around her finger, eyes becoming sad. "It's been a long while now since Arl Howe… er… Teyrn Howe…? Started the Purge. I'm so worried for our parents… Noris puts on a brave face but he's worried too. And your father… He thought that you'd been killed for sure. He was devastated that you'd been taken, and even more so when you didn't come back."

Kallian stared at her clasped hands, her heart clenching painfully at the mention of her father, her mind inevitably recalling the events that had lead to her capture in painful clarity. Her fingers twisted a ring on her hand, the only thing she had left from that past life. It was low-quality metal at best, but was expertly forged, the metal a perfect circle and all smooth edges, the ring supposed to be given to her by her now very dead fiancé. She heaved a sigh, dragging her thoughts away from that dark path. "We don't have the people, or the trainin' for it Sola. I'm sorry."

The girl heaved a sigh of her own, turning her face away to stare pointedly at the wall, avoiding Kallian's own grief stricken face. "Couldn't we find somebody to teach us?" Sola hedged in a timid voice, daring to peek at Kallian's face out of the corner of her eye.

Slowly, she shook her head in denial. "We'd need to practice against someone who's got skills like a guard. I'm handy with my blades, an' Sticker's got a handle on his too, but we ain't guards. We don't got nothin' to practice proper against. Last thing I want is for ya'll to be dyin' afore you can check on yer parents. I'm sorry."

The two women lapsed into silence for a while before Sola finally stood, leaving Kallian to her thoughts to join the others, who were laughing at some antics that Noris was pulling with Oen.

Kallian's fists tightened, the red cloth tied around her hands shifting under the strain. _'I truly am sorry.'_

**-0-0-0-**

Dawn in Denerim was a busy time. All of the shop owners were out and about getting things ready and scolding apprentices and hired help for being late to the early shift. Traders that had camped outside the city gates for the night were flooding into the market in a wave, a ruckus of horses, oxen, dogs and people spreading out and eventually waking the whole neighborhood, the Chantry bells ringing above all the other clamor.

Kallian was perched on a rooftop, her back against a protruding chimney that was warm from the fire that burned a story below. She watched the morning unfold, her practiced eyes picking over probable targets and contemplating the day's activities. Her thoughts wandered briefly to the pack of mercenaries that had finally cleared out after causing trouble pretty much everywhere they went. The Dalish elf leading the motley crew (and it really was motley, she hadn't seen any group so mismatched before) was obviously working to gather as much coin as he could get in the city, snatching up anything on the Chanter's board that didn't involve roof repair and stomping off angrily to complete the duties. They'd even disturbed the peace at the Pearl on more than one occasion during their stay, and somehow managed to pick a fight with just about every gang besides her own that claimed bits of Denerim as their territory from here to the other side of the river.

She shook her head at the thought, not particularly missing those that had been taken out in the bloody rampage that the elf had caused. His eliminating a good number of her group's competition had cut out a lot of struggle on her behalf. She'd tried to get some information on them, but whoever they were they weren't advertising very well. The group had no name to speak of as far as she could have told, but there were rumors that they were the last of the Grey Wardens, come from Ostagar with the blood of the King on their hands. Right. If that angry Dalish, the puppy-faced man, and the softhearted Orlesian woman were Grey Wardens, then she would eat her boot. Though her sources did agree as one that the huge bull of a man with the purple eyes was a Quinari, which lead to her further suspecting that they were a mercenary group. The Quinari that dotted Ferelden's cities were always mercenaries.

Whoever they were or whatever their purpose, they had left some handful of days ago and she hadn't seen hide nor hair of any of them since. They'd moved on, and street thugs were safe again in the relative freedom of only having a legion of lay about bastards left to guard the citizenry.

Standing with a yawn and a stretch, Kallian gestured for Sticker and Rido to do the same, the two following her without question as she dropped down onto a cart parked in middle of the alleyway directly below, and from there hopped onto the ground, heading for the market. The three elves walked quietly together and joined the flow of morning traffic, making a round to check things out and see if anything had changed in the night. Kallian took mental note of the guards patrolling the area, tallying up who was hung-over, who was sober, which ones looked shifty or weak, and which ones were the veterans.

Moving about like this with her attention on observing the crowd, she didn't notice a four-legged battering ram darting between legs at a startling speed until Sticker called out a warning a few seconds too late. Kallian turned just in time to have the mabari hound pummel her in the stomach, knocking the wind clean out of her before she hit the ground hard. The dog was licking her voraciously, the movement of wagging his stubby tail wiggling his whole backside.

"Keran!" A male's voice called out over the crowd, and immediately the dog stopped harassing his elven prey, panting with a doggy grin on his face and ears perked toward his master.

Gasping for air, Kallian shoved the dog off of her roughly and managed to sit up in time to see two familiar faces rush out of the sluggish morning crowd, hot on the heels of their renegade dog. Aedan quickly ran to Keran's side and whapped him on the nose. "What have I told you about tackling random strangers?" He growled at the dog who retreated with a whine and looked very guilty indeed. The human looked ragged around the edges, the beginning of a very scruffy beard decorating his face and he looked like he was in need of a haircut, strands of his dark brown hair falling into his eyes as he bent down to scold the mabari. All of his armor was missing as well, and the shield he carried on his back was battered and in desperate need of repairs. The leather was all but gone now, torn from parrying shields which revealed a chipped image underneath. She couldn't rightly make out what it was so didn't concern herself over much with it.

Solona was quick on his heels, and offered Kallian a hand up, apparently not recognizing the elf now that she wasn't covered in grime and utterly skeletal in appearance. "I'm so sorry!" The woman panted, also looking a bit travel weary and thin in the face, her expression extremely worried for the elf that Keran had tackled. "He doesn't usually do that." The mage looked like she'd dressed herself in men's clothing that was four sizes too big, the dark maroon tunic she was wearing falling very nearly to her knees and was held together at her waist by a worn leather belt. The overly long pants she wore had been rolled up to compensate for the length, revealing a flash of ankle when she walked over the low slippers that were entirely crused with mud. All in all, the two looked like they belonged out in the woods where society wouldn't be able to gawk at their haggard appearances.

Kallian sensed that Rido and Sticker were nearby; ready to leap into action if something started to go wrong. They all had weapons concealed on them, unable to bring the heftier long-knives along during broad daylight missions for fear that the guards would kill them on sight, but she knew that there would be no need to draw them. "By Andraste's blessed blistered feet! That's one hell of a welcome. I ain't never seen somebody so happy t'see me." She let the mage pull her to her feet, grinning at the astonished and very confused look on Solona's face as the mage tried to puzzle out where she'd seen the elf's face before.

"…Kallian?" She muttered, disbelieving that the healthy talkative elf standing in front of her was indeed the elf that she remembered saving from slavers. She'd put on a lot of weight since they'd seen her last, her lithe willowy body filled out to conceal the bones that had protruded so dangerously before. Her hair was relatively clean and pulled back into a thick braid, and her skin was still dark, but with a tan as opposed to with dirt and dried blood. Her clothes weren't quite as ragged either, and she'd outfitted herself with a good sturdy pair of boots and gloves that covered the silvery scars all over her wrists from her time in prison. Aedan studied the elf as well, hardly believing that they'd run into her again, or that she would be so changed.

Kallian laughed long and loudly, unable to help herself at the astonishment on their faces. "You two look like you've seen Andraste's Ghost! I thought you two were gone fer sure!" She punched Solona lightly on the shoulder, the mage finally cracking a smile for the first time. "I suppose this means ya took care of yer… problem?" She whispered, her voice dropping low so that Rido and Sticker wouldn't be able to hear her over the noise of the crowd.

A tight smile spread on Solona's face, and she nodded almost imperceptibly. "Yes. My pursuers have been… dealt with. Permanently." Aedan had walked closer, standing at Solona's side and quietly watching the conversation, his eyes not on Kallian but on the two elves standing a few feet behind her.

Looking over her shoulder, she realized a little belatedly that the two parties probably trusted each other about as far as they could be thrown. Not that she felt like opening up and telling all of her secrets to the mage or the warrior, but she at least knew that they were the good sort of folks that took out slaver cells. "Stop scowlin'. These are friends." She said to Rido and Sticker, and the two stopped their glaring but were still a bit wary. Others had started pausing to see what the commotion was about with them blocking traffic, and Kallian started to get itchy under the scrutiny. "Lets go talk somewhere a bit more quiet, unless you two go other places to be?"

"No, not really…" Solona replied with a bit of hesitation, looking up to Aedan, who didn't seem to disagree with her statement.

"Alright then. Follow me." Leading the way, Kallian trusted them to fall into line and follow her out of the main market. They didn't go very far, taking a turn around the Gnawed Noble tavern and heading to the back street near the warehouse and an older abandoned building that was rumored to house a band of assassin thugs on occasion. It was quieter back here away from the noise, and the guards didn't often patrol past the Noble unless they were on business. Which was very rarely these days.

"So…" She drawled, coming up to a halt in front of the warehouse. "Introductions now, so we can get all this awkward greetin' out of the way."

Solona took half a step forward and made a gracious incline of her head. "Solona Amell, nice to meet you."

Kallian wrinkled her nose at the name, having thought that it was too lengthy the first time that she'd heard it without adding on a family name. Aedan introduced himself and his dog using as many monosyllabic words as he could, and Rido and Sticker were likewise eager to speak as little as possible. Rolling her eyes, Kallian only barely resisted swatting someone on the head.

"Mind if I call you Ammy from now on?" Kallian asked, but didn't really wait for Solona to reply before plowing on, allowing her only enough time to blink in a confused way at the nickname. "Anyway, Aedan, you still interested in the estate?" She noted that the warrior stiffened momentarily at the mention, but Rido and Sticker didn't seem at all affected by the question.

"Of course." The warrior replied slowly, trying to guess the elf's game before she could maneuver him into whatever trap she was planning on springing.

Kallian couldn't help but to grin at how cautious he was. "Well, good. Because we're interested in it too." She gestured to herself and her two fellow elves, both of them nodding a bit in confirmation, though Sticker did so much less enthusiastically than Rido. "I wanna work out a deal with you. We all wanna get into the place, but there's a hitch. I know the way in an' around, an' I'd be willin' to play tour guide fer you. But I got this itchy feelin' that things ain't going to be exactly diplomatic, catch my drift?"

Aedan picked up on her meaning immediately, not having to try very hard to realize precisely what it was that the elf was getting at. "You need back up." There was something in his voice that immediately made Kallian wary of the big human, sensing that he wasn't in the least bit happy with the idea of running with a pack of elves.

Playing for nonchalant, Kallian shrugged. "I was lookin' fer someone to train my people, but if it's against yer mighty shem principles to teach a bunch of knife-ears how to fight, then forget I said anything." Rido and Sticker tensed up at the use of her slang for their race, and she saw that Solona seemed a bit stricken by it as well.

Aedan raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Forgive me, I didn't mean to imply such a thing." Though he didn't sound very apologetic, but more… diplomatic and business-like. "If that is the cost, then I will pay it. I'll teach anyone how to fight if you bring them to me."

Kallain nodded, glad that she got the result she wanted but still feeling a little tense about it. "Alright, then it's a deal. Where are the two of you stayin'? The Foamin' Fishwife again?"

Solona shook her head, biting her lip and twisting her hands in an unconsciously nervous gesture. "We just got into the city. We, uh…"

"We were hoping to find a job on the Chanter's Board." Aedan supplied where Solona faltered, the mage looking just a little more distraught than was perhaps necessary. "But it seems that everything has been taken already."

Kallian couldn't help the snort that issued forth. "Yeah, probably won't be full again fer a while." She waved her hand in dismissal when Aedan looked like he wanted more information on the matter, but she was content to not have to explain herself for the time being. "Well, luckily for the two…_three_ of you-" she looked down at Keran, who huffed happily at being included in the head count "-happen to know a very well connected elf. I can hook ya up with a place, if you're not too concerned 'bout cobwebs. An' rent is free."

Aedan looked cautious about accepting the offer, but Solona smiled, the relief clear on her face. "As long as there isn't a hole in the ceiling directly above where I sleep, I'd be more than content with free housing."

"Good, I like it when people are easy to please." Nodding, she pointed back toward the marketplace, indicating the direction to go. "Follow me."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> The nerve of some of these elves. Am I right? Anyway, glad to have Kallian back in the picture, and I hope you are too. Obviously, she's been busy while Aedan and Solona were on their extended camping trip. For anybody that's curious, this was the first time that the Grey Warden fellowship had come to Denerim looking for the Brother on the Sacred Ashes Quest. For anyone that didn't care, ignore that last sentence. Thanks to everyone that's been commenting and dropping by to check stuff out. I really appreciate it!


	13. Settling

Despite not being the top floor of the Foaming Fishwife, the smell was certainly frighteningly familiar. Kallian had brought Aedan, Solona and Keran to a ship assembly building that was right next to the ocean. During the summer it was abandoned because the ships that were built in here were assembled during the winter when the craftsmen returned from the summer seas. For now, it was a convenient hideout that smelled strongly of fish and had a large amount of space to move around in. The elf had informed Aedan upfront that this was where she wanted her people trained, and that her people worked in the night since that was safest for thieves to come out and do their work. Aedan agreed to the plan, though not without a fair amount of hesitation. He was still a bit wary of teaching the elves how to fight, and it wasn't a notion that anybody missed during the exchange.

Solona examined the place with a critical eye, glad that there was more than enough room to spread out and have personal space for once. There was all manner of ropes and rigging hanging about disused, as well as canvas, stacks of wood and crates of all shapes and sizes. Most of them had either nothing in them or hammers, wedges and other crafting tools. There was a pit that could be passed off as a forge that the two could use for a fire if it got chilly enough in the night, though she highly doubted such a thing needing to ever be lit except for perhaps cooking. It was fairly warm near the sea in the summer, and even if it did get chilly there was certainly enough heavy canvas material to compensate.

Once Kallian was done showing them around she left them to their own devices, and let them know that she didn't expect any training today, since both of them looked like they could use a good night's rest under a roof and a hot meal. Promising to return later that night to check and see how they were doing, the elf and her two gang members left to resume stalking the market district.

"By the Maker…" Aedan breathed when she finally left, shaking his head slowly with his hands on his hips. "Of all the trouble I thought that I'd get into, this was certainly not one of them. Aiding an escaping apostate, assassinating a Teyrn, and now also petty thievery and helping along another raid on the Arl's estate."

Solona smiled distantly, unclasping her tattered and travel stained cloak and let it fall to the floor, glad to have the heavy material off. "Well, it's certainly not at the top of the list for dangerous acts performed." She quipped with a small smile, setting her staff against the wall and then walked over to the pile of canvas and rope that she'd spotted earlier, examining first the pile then the various hooks hanging from the ceiling and attached to the wall.

"No, it's really not." Aedan agreed with another heavy sigh before similarly setting down what little gear he had retained from their flight from the Templars. Keran was entertaining himself by chasing rats around the huge space, barking at the rodents as they scurried away from the war hound.

After a pronounced silence, Solona gathered her breath to speak again. "You haven't had much experience with elves, have you?" It was more of a statement than a question, and even though she didn't turn to see his reaction, Solona could hear that he had stopped moving.

Aedan considered her words for a handful of silent seconds, wondering what the best reply to that could possibly be, for she was clearly waiting for him to say something wrong. "I knew many elves in Highever."

Apparently that wasn't the answer that she was hoping for, for her shoulders sagged visibly and she shook her head before turning around to face him, her face carefully neutral. "How many of those elves did you know by name…?" A long moment of silence stretched between them as Aedan tried to think up names and kept coming desperately blank in the way of answers. "I thought so."

"What is that supposed to mean?" Aedan shot back quickly before he could think about it, crossing his arms over his broad chest and assuming a defiant pose.

"Well, that you're nobility. I couldn't have actually expected you to have much respect for the elves working for you. No doubt you had many." There was a slight bitterness in her voice, and though she didn't cross her arms, Aedan could tell that she was settling in for a long argument. The look on her face said as much.

However, he didn't particularly feel like taking the jab lying down. "You're hardly an elf yourself, and I don't see how you can complain, since you didn't exactly grow up in an Alienage."

An angry flush stained Solona's cheeks briefly. "I knew many elves from the Alienage, Denerim or otherwise. They are victimized on a daily basis from humans of all station, but much more from the nobility. You're very lucky that Kallian doesn't know who you really are. If she did, she would probably rather see you dead than take a second look at you. I'm saying this as a warning; do not try their patience. We're not dealing with elven servants that cower from humans. These ones are dangerous and willful."

He wondered at that briefly, trying to recall if the elves that served his family had ever displayed any amount of hostility towards himself or even ever in his presence. However, he could only remember the elves either fleeing at the sight of him or else remaining quiet and bowing low. "I've never abused an elf in my life."

Solona shook her head. "That doesn't matter. Others of your similar status have, and it's all that the elves know of humans in general. The ones that came to the Circle always had a hard time getting used to the idea that they would have to share living space with humans- shemlen. They were bitter and harsh toward any that weren't of their own, and though I told Kallian that they were all treated as equals in the Circle, even that is untrue. The dislike between humans and elves is practically bred into the bone. It takes much to undo that sort of deep mistrust, especially when instilled at such a young age. Not all of us human mages mistreated the elves, and after a time they seemed to accept that, but such was not the case for all."

"So what do you expect me to do about it? These elves are hardly going to start trusting me, especially since I'm going to be pressing them in training all the time. No doubt they're going to hate me anyway just for that, human or not." He could easily recall the large amount of disdain that he held for his old training master when the man would demand he get up before the crack of dawn and then make him run around the compound several times before he could eat breakfast. After that it was seemingly endless exercises that were specifically designed to make him bored and tired. No, he wouldn't be winning any favor there.

"Just try and talk to them." Solona replied gently, taking a few steps toward him. "Staying closed off and silent will only confirm their suspicion that you hate them. They'll assume that you think you're too good to try and train them, and that you're only using Kallian's generosity for a roof over your head and protection."

Aedan brought his hand up to rub the bridge of his nose. "Fine, I will try diplomacy, then." At least he was good at that. Or at least the kind of diplomacy you saw in court.

"Good." She shot him her biggest brightest smile and then returned to the pile of canvas and ropes. "Now help me set up a hammock, if you will. You're tall enough to reach up to some of those hooks."

**-0-0-0-**

As promised, Kallian returned bearing food and this time brought with her an unremarkable sack resting over her shoulder. Keran loudly greeted Kallian's return, bounding up to the red-headed elf and stopping just short of barreling her over again like he'd done out in the market place. With a laugh she scratched the big dog behind the ears, and with his greeting done, the war hound ran to Aedan's side, wagging his tail with his tongue lolling out.

"I see you two made yerselves at home." Kallian called as a way of greeting, setting down the small sack of food that she had over her shoulder by the unlit forge.

"Yes, thank you again for showing us this place." Solona said, walking forward to inspect what they'd been brought. She was surprised to see that it wasn't all pitted fruit and moldy bread, but the good stuff that she had sorely missed ever since breaking out of the Circle. Her stomach growled just looking at it, and she offered Kallian a shy smile. "Seems I'm a bit eager."

"Well, it's here fer you to eat, so eat it." The elf replied with a shrug and a grin, sitting on the lip of the raised fireplace and eyeing the two's handy work with the canvas and ropes. "Good to see that yer handy with what yer given."

Solona dug through the sack of food, nodding absently to Kallian's words as she dug out an apple and examined it briefly before rubbing it on the cuff of her sleeve to wipe off some breadcrumbs and dirt. "It seems like we'll be here for a while. Might as well make things comfortable."

Kallian noticed with a dry smile that Aedan seemed to look anything but comfortable, standing a short distance away with his hand on Keran's head, scratching the dog absently and watching the conversation. "Oh, 'afore I forget…" She opened up the bag attached to her hip and rifled through it briefly before pulling out two scraps of red fabric the same color as the gloves around her hands. She handed Solona one of them and wadded the other up, tossing it the distance to Aedan who caught it with a raised eyebrow. "That's the teller for my gang. If ya get stopped by thugs anywhere near the docks, flash 'em the teller 'an tell 'em that yer under protection of the Knifers. Should send 'em runnin' an' save you a fight."

Aedan unraveled his wad of fabric, lifting an eyebrow with a look of disbelief on his face. "Knifers?" He repeated slowly. "As in, 'knife-ears'? I thought elves hated being called that."

Kallian whistled, a sarcastic grin on her face. "Oi, Ammy, where'd you get a sharp nail like this one, eh? The man's right clever."

Solona couldn't help the small chuckle at Aedan's expense. "Well, it is an interesting choice of names, to say the least."

"Couldn't think of anythin' else that sounded mysterious-like or threatinin' fer a bunch of rag-tag elves runnin' about an' pretendin' to be real mercs." Kallian replied with a shrug of her shoulders. "Then it stuck."

"So, what is it that you… _Knifers_… do, exactly?" Aedan ventured to ask, neatly folding his square of cloth and tucking it away in his pants pocket. "And why do you want into the Arl's Estate, if you don't mind me asking?"

The elf took a few moments to consider his question before shrugging, adopting a bored look. "Well, that's a good question, now innit? You tell me your reason 'an I'll tell you mine."

Solona hesitated mid-bite, watching over her apple as Aedan and Kallian appraised each other silently. They were both strategists, though in vastly different ways, and she could practically see the two trying to place the pieces together before the other one could win the game. "I'm curious as well, Kallian." She finally said, breaking the tension and drawing all eyes on herself instead.

"Well, I suppose you'd find out sooner or later. Noris has looser lips than a fishmonger's wife." Settling her palms on the cold stone of the forge, Kallian took a second together her thoughts. "The new Teyrn what's claimed Denerim is a dung-crusted git, in short. When I was in the prisons below the estate, I heard things from the guards. The _former_ dung-crusted git that used to own the place, Vaughn, was right upset by my little… _exploration_ of his place, and figured he'd take out his anger on the whole Alienage. He started crackin' down there, let his goons wander an' take what they would. Well, the elves finally got angry an' rebelled.

"Vaughn sent word to the new Teyrn of Highever, askin' fer aid since his father took most of Denerim's troops south on the King's orders an' couldn't handle it himself. Well, this Howe fella comes stompin' right in with his men and clears out the elves rightly enough, but he didn't stop there. Vaughn got thrown in with the rest of us an' the new Teyrn left 'em down there to die. I heard 'em kickin' and screamin' from down the hall, I did. But it didn't matter what the bastard said, he wasn't let out." She took some satisfaction in recalling that Vaughn had been trapped in the very dungeon that his cronies had locked her up in, and though at the time she had been battered, broken, weary and depressed had managed to crack a smile at Vaughn's pitiful moaning and attempts at bribery for any guard that passed. "But Howe wasn't happy with just takin' over Denerim. He wanted to elves quiet fer good, and put a Purge on the Alienage.

"I suppose he wanted some money, too, 'cuz that wasn't even the end of it. I heard the guards talkin' 'bout how he struck a deal with some slavers. They got free access to the Alienage, 'an fer every elf that they drag out of there, they had to pay a tariff. The guards that had been keepin' me fer…" She hesitated briefly, a lump forming in her throat. She cleared it by swallowing hard, her nails digging unconsciously into the stone before continuing. "…Well, they wanted some easy money, so sold me to 'em on the sly. That's when you two saved me." Kallian inclined her head gratefully to the two, drawing her hands into her lap and rubbing her wrists through her gloves.

A sad look had dominated Solona's face after Kallian revealed her sad story, reading between the unspoken lines. Her heart ached for the elven woman, but knew that pity wouldn't help her now. Revenge would probably be a better outcome, and after hearing the story she knew that there would be no way she'd turn down Kallian's need for help. "I suppose that there are still slavers in the Alienage, correct?"

Kallian nodded. "They bring out about five elves a week to the docks. I'd stop 'em myself but…" She shivered, flexing her hands then clenching them into fists until her knuckles turned white. "They got blood mages on their side, an' I ain't about to step up to that alone. They way they get in yer head…"

Solona went silent, her gaze immediately averting to the floor. Thinking that it was because of her own brush with the Tevinter blood mages, Aedan picked up the conversation instead. "Our motives are different, but the result will be the same. The _Teyrn-_" Aedan's fists clenched at having to call Howe by such a title "-owes me a debt that can only be satisfied by his life. You've my arm in this battle, Kallian."

She seemed a bit surprised to hear Aedan declaring himself to her cause with such determination, and Kallian didn't bother hiding the look. She'd pegged him as the type of shem that would rather lick dirt than help an elf, so became cautiously hopeful that perhaps she was wrong about him. "I'd toast to the death of the swine, but I don't got cups."

A grim smile tugged at the corner of Aedan's lips and he raised his hand anyway, miming holding a wine glass in his hand. "To the death of the swine."

Smiling, Kallian mimicked his motion and they pretended to clink glasses, though skipped the actual drinking bit. "Glad yer on board then. Now, about yer particular _talents_ there Ammy."

Solona looked up sharply, something that resembled a glower on her face. "Must you call me that?"

Kallian waved off her simmering anger nonchalantly. "Yer name's far too complicated fer me. Anyway, I didn't tell anyone that yer a mage, an' I don't plan to until I feel 'em out a bit, see which ones are skittish and which aren't. But I know that yer healing is mighty useful, so I don't wanna have to keep you under wraps fer too long. What's yer say in this?"

She took a moment to consider, knowing very well that the general populace didn't react very well when it was revealed that there was a mage in their midst, especially one outside of the Circle's control. The fact that Kallian seemed so calm around her was a very rare thing for Solona to experience. "Telling them sooner rather than later would be for the best. I don't want to accidentally be caught setting somebody on fire and having all of the others flee from me for it."

Kallian nodded, being of the same mind. "I figured as much. Sola and Noris might be a bit more forgivin' of yer nature than the rest of 'em. We knew a mage growin' up in the Alienage. We were fast friends afore his powers manifested an' then he got spirited away to the Circle overnight. I'm not so sure 'bout the others."

"That's fine, do what you think will help." Solona gave Kallian a small smile and rolled her apple between her hands for a moment. "But in the meantime I could make healing poultices for you. That doesn't require magic so much as skill and supplies. They're good for healing in a pinch when you don't have a mage conveniently near by."

"Sounds like a plan. Make a list of anythin' you need, an' I'll make sure to swipe it fer you if I can." Kallian didn't miss Solona's wince at the idea of stealing ingredients, but chose to ignore it. No doubt the two of them had been living the straight and narrow aside from running from Templars and such. They would have to get used to the idea that they were allied with a pack of thieves if they wanted to be able to sleep at night. She stood and patted off her gloved hands, drawing a deep breath of the salty air. "But I'll let ya have yer rest. I'll be bringin' the group over tomorrow evenin' fer training." They exchanged goodbyes, Keran getting a good scratch from Kallian before she took her leave and left the two to their own devices.

"I've done nothing but run into strange circumstances since I left home." Aedan mumbled with a drawn out sigh, shaking his head and walking forward to see what was in the food bag for the first time.

Solona swallowed a large bite she'd taken of the apple, watching him with a faint smile on her features. "It's a small world in the Circle. It seems that even outside of it, the world doesn't get much bigger. We are fortunate."

Aedan allowed himself a chuckle, taking out a half a loaf of hard-crusted bread and a wrapped package that contained a hunk of cheese. "I don't know if being recruited into a gang of elves counts as being so much fortunate as desperate. I only hope that Kallian's assessment of this Sola and Noris are well-founded for your sake." He held out his hand and Solona placed a small dagger in it, the one that she kept hidden on her at all times for emergencies and herbal work. He used it to cut off a slice of bread and cheese before returning it to the mage. "I would feel a fool indeed if I were unable to protect you if she's wrong."

After carefully wiping down the small blade, Solona replaced it in a fold near her hip and finished off her apple. "You haven't let me down so far, so I have no reason to not trust in your abilities." Her face warmed slightly, recalling the seductive whisper of the Desire demon disguised as Aedan pledged to protect her, and with a great show of will banned the memory from her mind for the moment. "Thank you for always having my back."

He inclined his head slightly, taking her thanks in stride. "And thank you for being at mine as well. Never underestimate the presence of a trusted friend."

A pained smile was forced to Solona's face, wondering silently if he would think her such a trusted friend if he actually knew what had been required to silence the Templars once and for all.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> A relatively uneventful chapter, but it was needed. More fleshing out of characters and what not, and just a little taste of the dynamic that runs between our three heroes. As always, I thank you for all of your support!


	14. Vigilance

Something startled her awake, a gentle pressure and warmth on her side. Her hammock wobbled unsteadily when she turned her head to see what was going on, too tired to panic just yet. Solona was surprised when she looked down to see a familiar hand on her hip and followed the attached wrist and arm up to see Aedan looking down at her, his face troubled. Frowning, Solona turned in her hammock and felt Aedan's hand withdraw, only to settle on her opposite hip, the warmth of his palm quickly seeping through the thin fabric of her night shift. "Aedan? What's wrong? Why are you awake?"

"I couldn't sleep." There was something about his voice that made her heart flutter in her chest, the stark honesty present on his face and in his words catching her off guard. Slowly, he lifted his other hand to brush the pad of his thumb against her cheek. Her breath caught, heart hammering loudly at the contact. "I kept thinking of you…"

Was this another dream? It had to be. There was no way… "What do you mean?" She tried to sit up and break the contact, but he simply moved his hand to trail the contours of her neck, his fingers delving into her hair.

"Don't you know?" He leaned closer so that their lips were barely just inches apart, his grey eyes filling the entirety of her vision. "I love you." She gaped at the confession; unable to believe that he would come out and say such a thing, but her concerns that he was out of his mind flew from her thoughts when he kissed her, stealing her breath. Her body moved of its own, her arms wrapping around his neck and drawing him closer, the two sharing a moment of heat and passion.

Aedan drew back for a breath, his hands having somehow wandered to her waist and began fiddling with the tiny buttons that kept her clothes in place. Solona let her eyes close and her head tip back when his mouth went to her throat. She didn't know what brought on the sudden change, almost didn't care either. Then her fingers brushed against something hard on his head, an odd protrusion from his scalp and she looked down.

She wanted to scream, seeing Aedan's all too familiar features flicker briefly, revealing the demon underneath. She tried to shove him away, and his face broke out into a hideous parody of a smile, eyes turning black and his face going flat. "I love this body." He said, now more demon than human, spikes curling out from his shoulders and chest. "I will have it!"

She screamed out loud, sitting upright with her hands clenched on the sides of the makeshift hammock that she slept in. It was unsteady, swinging with her sudden movement, but she couldn't concentrate on trying to stop the motion. Dream bled into real life for that terrifying instant and she could still see the Aedan/Pride demon looming over her, ghastly teeth coming forward to rip out the flesh of her neck.

Aedan was startled out of bed and onto the floor, the fall waking him up completely if Keran's barking and the high-pitched scream hadn't already. Ignoring the pain that had erupted in his shoulder from the fall, he quickly scrambled to his feet, expecting to see them under assault by some truly horrifying foe. When there was nothing physically in the room that should have caused Solona's scream, he went to her side, reaching out to steady her by placing his hands on her shoulders. "Solona! Calm down!" This was not the first nightmare she'd had that he'd been awake to see, though it was the worst of them so far.

She didn't seem to hear or recognize him, flinching away from his touch and power rippled along her entire being. Aedan snatched back his hands when they tingled uncomfortably at the display of power, realizing that she wasn't entirely awake just yet. "Snap out of it! You're safe! Whatever it is in the Fade that hunts you, it's not here, not now!"

"Get away!" She yelled and tried to retreat from him. Apparently unaware that she was only seconds from falling, Solona thrust her hand out as if to cast a spell, but the words were lost when the hammock finally overturned on her and she plummeted toward the floor. Instead of landing face-first however, Aedan's arms were wrapped firmly around her torso, having stopped her just a few inches from landing straight on her nose. The sensation of free falling had brought her fully to wakefulness, and she finally became aware that the Aedan holding her wasn't the one that she had imagined in the fade.

Aedan let Solona go once she had regained her sense, noting that she was trembling and pale. As she sat on the floor and drew her knees up to her chest, he noticed that she wouldn't look at him directly, her eyes straying to literally everywhere else. "What happened? Solona, this is the third time this week you've had a nightmare. Is something going on that I should know about?"

She remained quiet, letting her eyes squeeze closed, trying to banish the nightmare from her thoughts. She couldn't very well let him know that Desire demons were plaguing her dreams, tempting her with images of him. "I don't think there's anything you can do."

He frowned, sitting next to her and settling his arm on a raised knee, the other leg stretched out in front of him. "You know that saying that doesn't alleviate my fears any, right?" Aedan's eyes wandered over her, trying to figure out what had startled her so much. He had noticed her nightmares when she'd woken him up on accident the day before they came to Denerim. She'd had one other nightmare that he'd known of a week later, but this week it seemed like she was haunted, spending her waking hours being tired and sluggish. The two other times this week that he'd woken to her startled cries she had simply told him that there was nothing to be done about it. Tonight was the worst. She had never almost attacked him before now.

Solona grimaced, rubbing her face with shaking hands to try and cast the last vestiges of her waking horror out of her mind. "I don't mean to worry you Aedan, really. It's… I have to handle it. There's nothing that you could do."

Her answer didn't pacify him, and he was going to make it clear that simply avoiding his questions with excuses wasn't going to get either of them back to bed any quicker. "Don't think I haven't noticed how your strength is waning each day, Solona. And your nightmares are getting worse, I can tell. If they don't wake you up crying, then you spend the night thrashing around. Tell me what is going on." Aedan was careful to meet her eyes, keeping his eyes on her face until she looked at him reluctantly, his tone gentle but brooking no argument. He wanted answers.

Solona was brave enough to hold his hard gaze for a long silent moment, and then she couldn't look at him anymore, her eyes flicking to the space in front of her toes. "I'm afraid." She whispered, her voice soft and partially choked from the lump that developed in her throat at the thought of having to confess the contents of her dreams to him. "…I'm afraid to tell you."

"Why?" It was a simple question, and Aedan sounded so bewildered that it made Solona feel even guiltier for holding back. "Don't you trust me? Solona, we've had to hold each other's lives in our hands for nearly three months now. Trust that I won't let you go over this."

Again her breath caught in her throat and she wanted to cry, the stark honesty in Aedan's voice causing her very heart to feel pain for continuing to deceive him. He would regret saving her from the Templars if he knew that she was plagued by demons, would probably have a mind to kill her if she confessed to using blood magic once. She feared his rejection more than his anger; unsure that she'd be able to handle one of the only friends she had looking at her with disgust.

"Do you know what the Chantry says about mages and demons?" She asked, though knew the answer already. She felt Aedan tensing up, going still as he listened to her. "They say that demons are drawn to mages and will try and possess them if the mages are weak. That is why the Circle was created, so that the Templars could keep an eye on the mages in case they show signs of possession. The Chantry… does not lie."

"You are pursued by a demon in the fade, then?" His tone was carefully neutral, constructed to hide the small amount of panic he felt blooming in his chest. He had never actually seen an Abomination, though had heard that they were terrible warped entities whose power was practically unrivaled. If Solona became one…

She nodded silently, adding onto Aedan's already growing concerns. "There is one specifically that haunts my dreams. He calls himself Mouse and is a master of guile and illusion. I met him during my Harrowing, when the Templars or perhaps the First Enchanter forced me into sleep and brought the demon to me in the Fade. I defeated a different demon with Mouse's help, and he left after seeing that my will was strong. I thought him gone for good but…" She shuddered, remembering how Mouse liked to toy with her, always pushing at her limits to make her crack. "He's found me once more, and wants to possess my body, to make me an abomination. I have resisted his advances multiple times now, but he grows stronger… or perhaps shows me more of his power each time? Whatever the case, he has recruited another demon to his side, and the both of them toy with my mind when I sleep. I am stronger than the both of them, but…" She trailed off, trying hard not to remember the pleasant whispers that the Desire demon had uttered in the guise of Aedan.

"Can you kill them?" When Solona gave him a confused look, Aedan elaborated. "In the Fade. Can you kill this Mouse demon, and the other one that pursues you?"

Hesitantly, she nodded. "I suppose I could, if I managed to trap Mouse, but he prefers to run away rather than get his hands dirty." That, and it was getting harder and harder to tell when her time in the Fade was normal dreams and ones influenced by that damned Desire demon. "I don't know if he is stronger than he lets on or not, which is why I have avoided engaging him in battle. I just…" Tears suddenly welled in her eyes unbidden, and she tried to wipe them away before they could course down her face and she started sniffling. She was already a wreck, no need to add water works to the picture. "I've only just been freed Aedan. I don't want… I'm scared of becoming an Abomination."

Aedan reached out and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, giving her a gentle squeeze of reassurance. "Don't loose faith." He murmured and drew Solona close so that she could rest her head on his shoulder. "This Mouse sounds like he fears what you can do, and is trying to whittle away at your resolve. Find strength in knowing that you have friends. If you had the strength to take out those Templars when it seemed inevitable that we should both die, then I know that this too you can overcome."

Solona nodded mutely, staring resolutely at her hands folded in her lap. Aedan's words should have been comforting, knowing that he placed such trust in her abilities… but it was a lie that he trusted, wasn't it? Blood magic had saved her once, but she was reluctant to admit that she would probably need to use it to save herself again. Was it possible that the thing that started this could be the only way to escape?

**-0-0-0-**

"Good! You have to keep your opponent moving!" Aedan called, the sound of sword striking shield ringing out in the vast open space of the ship assembly house. Oen was facing off against him, dual swords in hand and trying valiantly to keep Aedan retreating. A fine sheen of perspiration dotted Aedan's forehead as he deftly parried the sword strikes with his shield, a vague smile on his face. "You won't be strong enough to simply overpower me, and with surprise gone, you'll need to use your higher agility to slip past my defenses."

Rido and Sticker were facing off against each other in a different part of the open space, the clatter of their wooden swords adding to the noise of the practice fight between Aedan and Oen. Sola, Pita and Noris were out that day, scouting around the neighborhood and keeping tabs on the guards that patrolled the streets. The Knifers were starting to be enough of an annoyance that the guards had actually put forth minimal effort to squelch their gang. Kallian had noticed them snooping a little too close to their old hideout in the brewery for comfort, and so had moved everyone to the abandoned ship assembly instead. They were all living under the same roof now, though the elves had set up their beds and hammocks up on the opposite side of the building from where Aedan and Solona had set their claim. They all got along well enough, but trust wasn't something forged overnight.

"You been slackin' Ammy!" Kallian tapped off three hits on Solona's upraised staff in quick succession, ducking under a wild swing on the mage's part so that it flew wide over her head. She stepped in and aimed a wooden dagger at Solona's belly, but the mage retreated just enough to avoid a mock-fatal blow.

Even with Aedan tutoring her how to fight nearly every day, Solona just didn't have the strength or physical stamina to keep up for very long, especially against Kallian. The elf was all whirling daggers and quipping insults, getting the better of her opponents between taunting and deadly skill. She'd become used to the witty insults, but defending from the daggers was a whole other problem. There were a lot of near misses on Kallian's part, and they became more often the longer the two fought.

Angry that she hadn't been able to even put Kallian on the defensive yet, Solona switched tactics, choking up on the grip of her staff and aiming at Kallian's hands in an effort to disarm her. The elf backed away, having to use both swords to stop the incoming blows with Solon's strikes getting stronger now that she had better leverage. Once she had managed to get the elf far away enough Solona feinted a head strike with the butt of her staff, then quickly reversed her momentum and aimed for Kallian's knees in a low swing.

Caught off guard by the sudden change in direction, Kallian tried to jump up and backward over Solona's staff, but got clipped on the side of the foot. She lost her balance and fell hard on her back with a pained yelp. Solona laid the head of her staff on Kallian's stomach, breathing hard and grinning. It was the first time she'd ever bested the elf.

With a groan Kallian pushed Solona's staff away and rubbed her elbow. "Yeah yeah, no need to look like a cat what's got into the cream, Ammy." She groused, which made Solona chuckle, offering a hand to Kallian and hauling her to her feet.

"Do you still think I've been slacking?" She asked with a coy smile, leaning against her staff and wiping at her brow with the cuff of her sleeve.

"Tch, I suppose you were playin' at that?" Kallian asked with a bit of disbelief, having never known Solona to be the tricky type. Whatever Solona was going to say next was cut off when the door suddenly slammed open, a breathless and wild-eyed looking Noris ran through. Sola and Pita were quick on his heels, equally as breathless, though more terrified looking.

Immediately Kallian sensed trouble and stiffened, striding toward the three. "What's wrong?" Aedan and Oen stopped their sparring match, Rido and Sticker a little slower to follow suit, but soon all eyes were on the breathless three.

"T-they're coming!" Noris stammered, gesturing wildly and still trying to catch his breath.

"Who? The guard?" Kallian's heart began to hammer. She'd been afraid of this. Most of the guard wasn't very clever, but if you started pissing off the right people, eventually you had to pay the consequence.

Noris shook his head so fast that his hair flew in all directions, and Sola spoke for him seeing as the youth was somehow speechless for once. "It's that merc group that was here a few weeks ago." She panted, her face having gone quite pale. She and Pita came fully inside now, and everyone had gathered around Kallian in the center of the room. "Someone put up a post for us on the Chanter's Board. They're coming to collect!"

"Andraste's flaming tits!" Kallian cursed loudly and dropped her sparring daggers. "We can't tangle with them! How close are they?"

"Too close for you to run!" All eyes whipped toward the door at the strange voice, and Kallian's eyes went wide. He was there, the angry elf with the facial tattoos and dark eyes that were black as the Void. He had his bow out and an arrow already on the string, so she had no doubt at all that he would draw and fire with the least bit of provocation. Behind him was the puppy-faced shield bearing blonde human, the dark-skinned white haired giant from before, and an elderly woman wearing mage robes and brandishing a staff.

"Your days of thievery are done." The Dalish called, drawing his bow fully and sighting Kallian without hesitation.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> The beginning of this chapter is dedicated to everyone who has been wondering if Aedan would ever grow a heart and show feelings for our besotted mage. My editor was pissed at me for teasing her. Muwahahah~

Anyway, for those wonder what the Wardens are doing back, there's a completely legit reason. Remember when they came last time how I said that they were searching for the Brother Genitivi? Well, they went to Lake Calenhad and were jumped by the stupid cultist gang, and so our Dalish Hero and Co. are back and just beat the crap out of fake!Weylon (with their bare hands). As a side note, I'm dropping my three-times-a-week update scheduel. I can't keep up, unfortunately :/ So, just Mondays and Fridays from now on.

P.S. If you want to see an artist rendering of my characters, follow the link: {http:/ seroph. deviantart. com/ #/d43z8gq} (without spaces)


	15. Reconciliation

Flashes of the inside of the Denerim prison flashed before her eyes, and Kallian immediately felt disgust well up in her. She would never go back alive, far more preferring death than winding up in that horrid place again. She was about to say as much to the invading party, her hands already reaching for her long knives when a dagger spun out of nowhere.

The Dalish elf flinched backward out of the way, instead sighting Sticker who had been brave enough to distract their attackers from Kallian. A scuffle ensued immediately, both the puppy-faced shield bearing human and the Qunari warrior rushed forward to form the front lines. Aedan spared no time in meeting the charge, ducking under a broad swing from the giant Quinari and thrusting his shield forward in a move that caught most men off guard and smashed their faces in. The Quinari warrior was unfazed by the move, catching the blow with the flat of his sword and shoved Aedan backward and off balance with a great show of strength.

Keran followed up immediately, snarling as he barreled into the ox of a man, giving Aedan enough time to recover and press the offensive. Kallian barely managed to avoid a similar tactic employed by the blonde human who came straight for her. She backed off and twisted away from the flourishing strikes that followed, meeting his stronger blows once with a parry, ducked down and threw a handful of sawdust and dirt into his eyes that she managed to pull off the floor. Oen was at her side immediately, and though they put the man on the defensive, they couldn't manage to wound him.

Sticker fell back with an arrow in his throwing arm, Noris using the instantaneous chaos to sneak around behind the action and tried to sink a knife into the Dalish elf's back with little success. He was rewarded by being clobbered in the head with the elf's bow, and in one fluid moment, the Dalish had the sword buckled on his back out of his sheathed and swiped it across Noris's legs, felling the elf in one clean blow, crimson blood spattering on his armor. In back, the mage was casting supportive spells, the Quinari and shield-bearing human glowing with power and they quickly started beating back Aedan, Oen and Kallian with very little effort on their part.

"STOP!" The command was enforced with a heavy spell of sleep, the magic striking the invading opponents like a blow to the head. Solona glowed with power, her staff held high over her watching with narrow eyes as the Quinari and the human fighting at his side staggered and fell promptly to sleep, though the human was more resistant to the force. The elf buckled at the knees, hitting the floor hard, which left only the mage standing by herself to defend her fallen comrades. When the Knifers went to finish the job now that the majority of their opponents had been immobilized, Solona cracked her staff on the floor. "I said _stop!_" She yelled, and all eyes turned to her.

Walking forward briskly, she paused just in front of were Aedan stood, still ready to do battle with a wary look on his face. "Wynne? Is that really you?"

The elderly mage and Solona looked at each other for a long moment, then recognition finally replaced the look of determination that had creased the matronly woman's face. "Solona?"

With a wide grin, Solona nodded then set her concentration on Noris, who was moaning on the floor, blood seeping from his legs at an alarming rate. Blue magic engulfed the elf, and the bleeding stopped, the wound dealt to his legs sealing up quickly. The three that she'd sent to sleep were stirring as the effects of the spell wore off, and Solona pinned Wynne with a long look. "Please, we don't need to fight Wynne. Call them off. Let us talk."

The shield-bearing human was the first to rouse, sitting up and rubbing his jaw, looking thoroughly confused when he realized that nobody was attacking him. "Alright, what just happened?" He asked, getting to his feet. The other two were in similar states of confusion when they stood as well, though the Quinari was much more passive about it, his poker face practically unreadable.

"You ain't the only one that wants to know, shem." Kallian mumbled, stepping in front of Noris protectively when the younger elf scrambled to rejoin their lines, the boy's eyes not wavering from the angry mask that the Dalish elf seemed to constantly wear.

Unconcerned by the scrutiny he was under, the Dalish elf looked first from Solona then to the mage standing behind him addressed as Wynne. The elderly woman was staring at Solona with a mixture of surprise and disbelief. "So Wynne, is this another one of your students that fled in your younger days?"

Wynne frowned slightly at the elf and walked forward so that she stood even with him, her eyes resting on Solona. "A student, yes, but a far more recent one…"

Ignoring the elf, Solona let her gaze travel to the shield-bearing one for a moment before meeting Wynne's eyes again. "By the Maker, Wynne! I never thought I'd see anyone from the Circle again, least of all you!" There was relief in her voice, and a smile broke out over her face, her staff now held unthreateningly by her side.

"Hey, I hate to interrupt this little… reunion." Kallian piped up, her stance having relaxed not at all despite the apparent cease-fire. "But should we make ourselves scarce, or are ya gonna put yer weapons away?"

The Dalish elf and Wynne shared a look for a moment before he tucked his arrow back away in its quiver. "Alistair, Sten, put your weapons away. We'll let Wynne have her chat." The two warriors did as the elf asked, though Kallian noted that the puppy-faced one addressed as Alistair looked very reluctant to do so.

"Damn…" Theron drawled, assuming a bored expression and looking up at the ceiling. "…And I was really hoping to get some real fighting in today." Whether he was blood thirsty, bored, or being sarcastic, nobody could rightly tell.

Solona looked over her shoulder and gave Aedan an encouraging nod, to which he also put his weapon away, though kept his shield mounted on his arm. As soon as she saw his sword sheathed, Solona rushed forward, closing the space between herself and Wynne and threw a hug around the elder woman's shoulders. "You've no idea how good it is to see a familiar face."

Wynne indulged Solona's display of affection for a few moments, a smile turning up her lips before disengaging and holding her at arm's length. "It seems that you've grown since you left the tower, I hardly recognized you." She gave Solona a long searching look and let her hands drop to her sides. "You caused quite a stir when you left. Do you know what became of Jowan?"

Wynne had used her teaching tone, indicating that she already knew the answer and was waiting to see if Solona could guess it right. She suddenly felt a little bit worried, wondering what the man had gotten himself into. She suspected that the Templars must have captured him and had him executed for Wynne to be so grim around the mouth. "No. Once we left the tower, we went our separate ways. I knew the Templars would be after me shortly since they had my phylactery still, so I gave him the better chance at escaping."

"She's the one that let that- that _blood mage_ out?" She was surprised to hear the blonde human speak, especially with so much venom in his voice and giving her such a hate-filled stare. She'd thought that the elf was the dangerous one of the group, seeing as he was obviously the leader, but she was now seriously reconsidering her evaluation of things. He gave her the same prickly feeling that Templars did.

"Peace, lethallin." The elf held up his hand to stave off Alistair doing something dangerous like drawing his sword, though he didn't look like he meant it very much, his sudden anger at hearing that Solona and Jowan were connected just as visible though less verbal. The elf's dark eyes were locked onto Solona, a muscle tightening slightly in his jaw. "Explain yourself quickly shemlen. Friend of Wynne or no, that mage has cost us a great deal of troubles on our venture."

Behind her she knew that Aedan was probably getting ready to fight again, knowing that he had her back. However, she was more bewildered than frightened, turning her wide eyes on Wynne. "What happened to Jowan?" She asked a little breathlessly. "What did he do?"

Wynne appraised her reaction silently, every line in her wrinkled face showing, the news obviously heavy on her conscience. "Jowan was… in Redcliffe castle, as I have come to understand it." She glanced once back at Alistair, the young man's face set in a grimace, all hard lines and his normally cheery demeanor gone. "He had been hired as a tutor for Arl Eamon's son when the boy started showing signs of being a mage. However, he was contacted first by Teyrn Loghain and sent to-"

"To poison Eamon!" Alistair exploded suddenly; unhappy with how gently Wynne was breaking the news. "And he would have succeeded too if-"

"Alistair." Theron's voice cut the man off as quickly as he'd cut off Wynne, leveling a long quelling look at the warrior. "We can't trust this friend of Wynne's with everything we know. Remember, the Arl's reputation is at stake, and we need him as our ally." Alistair backed off, looking no less angry but much less willing to bite somebody's head off. "Thanks to this Jowan, the Arl still lies bed ridden, and we are on an insane quest to try and cure him."

"Wait, Teyrn Loghain used a blood mage to poison Arl Eamon?" Aedan asked, looking quite surprised to hear the news, his gaze flicking between Wynne, Alistair and Theron in turns to catch a hint of lies. "Teyrn Loghain, as in the Hero of River Dane?"

"How many Teyrn Loghain's are there among you shemlen?" Theron shot back quickly, his brow raising and a humorless grin on his face.

"Yes, _Teyrn Loghain_." Alistair spat the man's name like a curse. "The same one that left King Cailan to _die_ at Ostagar when he _abandoned_ us and has been framing the Grey Wardens ever since."

Aedan shook his head. "No, Loghain is a man of principle. He would never do anything if it weren't best for this country. His skills as a general are solid and renown, no charge of darkspawn would make him quit the field without taking the King with him. The Grey Wardens had to have betrayed the King, there's no other explanation for it."

If his goal was to rile up everyone in the room, then he succeeded handily.

Both Alistair and Theron immediately drew their weapons in response, which made Kallian and all of those standing with her draw their arms as well. Solona quickly interceded, jumping in front of Aedan and throwing her arms wide. "Stop it! All of you!" She yelled, the head of her staff glowing with power. "I will send you to sleep again if we can't agree to get along!"

"So it's true, then?" Kallian asked, eyeing Alistair and Theron warily. "I'd heard rumors that a few Grey Wardens were fortunate 'nough to escape Ostagar. Word on the street was that it was yer group. I didn't believe it. Neither of you looked like Wardens ter me." At the side of the group Sten made a noise that sounded almost like a chuckle, and Theron shot him a glare that could curdle milk.

"_You're_ the Grey Wardens?" Aedan breathed, about to disregard the fact that Solona could cast the sleeping spell on him just as well as she could the others and charge the two. "How dare you slander Teyrn Loghain's name! He is a _hero!"_

"_Ar tu na'din!"_ Theron yelled, about to disregard Solona's warning as well, his face going pale with rage with an arrow already on the string, though he hadn't drawn it yet. "Do all of you _shemlen_ swallow the lies that you are fed so easily? I'm sure that you would dance happily to any tune that backstabbing viper sung for you. See how you dance even now! Stop and think a moment! Why would the Wardens want to see your arrogant man-child King dead? _There is a_ _Blight to be fought!_ Something that your great shemlen _hero_ has decided to ignore and is even now ripping the country that you claim he holds so dear apart with this war that rages all across the land. At this rate, there will be no country left for the darkspawn to claim because you are letting that rot-headed son of a moldy stump pretend himself your leader!"

Dead silence claimed everyone once Theron's blast of rage had tempered itself out, the elf meeting Aedan's icy stare without flinching in the slightest.

"Aedan…" Solona murmured, letting her arms drop as he gaze moved between the two standing off to each other. "I don't think he's lying."

"_What?_" Aedan broke eye contact with Theron, settling his intense stare on her instead.

"It is true." Wynne chimed in, taking a cautious step forward. "I too was at Ostagar. The Grey Wardens stood on the lines with the King. When the signal was given for the beacon to be lit, Alistair and Theron did so without fail. However, no supporting troops came to our aid. The darkspawn overwhelmed our forces and broke the lines of defenses. We were abandoned by Loghain."

Another heavy silence descended on the gathered parties, broken only when Kallian sighed, rolling her eyes up toward the roof and muttering something to herself about another sanctified body part of Andraste. "Then we ain't yer enemies, Wardens. I'm inclined to believe you, s'pecially with Denerim in the state that it's in. The city's only been gettin' worse since Loghain moved in 'an appointed that damned Howe as the Arl. With allies like that, you gotta wonder at the character of the man keepin' slimy rats for friends."

Aedan did his best to hide a flinch, remembering all too well how his father had once counted Howe among his allies, but that had been before he'd shown his true colors. "If this was indeed true…" He hedged, reserving any doubt he had on the matter for later, "Then it would certainly explain some other misfortunes that have been plaguing Ferelden as of late."

"Unfortunately, Loghain has had his hand in more than you could ever realize." Theron replied with a shrug, looking once to Wynne.

"It's true. Have you heard any rumors about the Circle?" She addressed her question directly to Solona, who shook her head slowly in response.

"None that are reliable. I'd heard that the Templars were being unusually quiet about goings-on in the Circle, but that is hardly a surprise." She replied, the all too familiar sensation of worry tickling her innards.

Wynne sighed, her expression falling and looking years older, her eyes very sad when she met Solona's gaze again. "The Templars nearly invoked the right of Annulment on the Circle." Predictably, Solona gasped, covering her open mouth with her hand and eyes flying wide. "You remember Uldred? First Enchanter Irving had trusted him to find apprentices that might easily succumb to the practices of blood magic and demons, and he proved to be a valuable asset in stopping the blood mages before they became a danger. However, it was all a ruse. Loghain had made Uldred promises, and had been trying to convince the Circle to support him in his bid to be made Regent. However, after Ostagar and word of the King's demise got out, Uldred lost the tentative support that he had managed to acquire. He tried to get it back, but things went… wrong."

"She's giving you the easy version." Theron mumbled, seeing the stricken look on Solona's face and noticing how the mage trembled, looking on the verge of collapse. "The place was crawling with blood mages, abominations and demons. We saved who we could, but I wouldn't want to be returning there any time soon if I were you." He let the warning hang in the air briefly before continuing, allowing just enough time for everyone to feel uncomfortable. "But enough of that, there is the matter of Loghain to deal with, and deciding what to do with you lot."

"What're ya talkin' 'bout?" Kallian asked, narrowing her eyes and striking a defiant pose.

Theron rolled his eyes, but chose not to antagonize the redheaded elf. "We need allies if we're going to be stopping this Blight without Loghain's help and half of Ferelden's army rotting in Ostagar. We'll have to confront him sooner or later, but in the meantime we can't have him hounding our every step. He's already sent some assassins after us with little success. It's dangerous being in Denerim, but it's more dangerous not knowing what he's planning."

Aedan sniffed, quickly grasping what Theron was getting at. "You want us to be spies for you."

Kallian laughed at the revelation, finding honest humor in it. "Oi! That's rich. The legendary Grey Wardens askin' fer a pack of street thugs to play political games fer 'em. Desperate times, eh?"

Despite Kallian's mocking tone, Theron seemed unruffled. "Or we could kill you."

That sobered Kallian up right quick. She gave Theron an appraising once-over, judging how serious he was about it before concluding that he would indeed start firing that bow at them if prompted. "Fine." She finally conceded, stepping forward and sticking out her hand. "We'll help out the Grey Warden's as best we're able. I like my head attached to my shoulders well enough, and don't fancy bein' a pincushion."

Stowing the arrow he'd pulled out once more, Theron reached forward and grasped her hand with a solid shake. "Good to see that there's sense left in the world."

* * *

><p>* <em>lethallin<em> = friend (male)

*_Ar tu na'din!_ = I will kill you!

**A/N: **If Theron weren't a rogue, he would make an _excellent_ candidate for the Berserker specialization, no? So much rage in one little body~! But I feel the need to explain myself for the reason of this confrontation at all.

Like Cailan, Aedan would have been raised on the tales of how King Maric wrestled the throne of Ferelden away from the clutches of the Orlesians. Loghain, whatever his faults in DA:O is widely respected around Ferelden at this time. Furthermore, I seriously doubt that Bryce would have very much bad to say about Loghain. After all, the man was more or less instrumental in winning back Ferelden from the Orlesians. Aedan would have grown up knowing that Loghain was a great general, a just man and someone who held the safety of Ferelden high on his list of priorities, despite being a commoner. Furthermore, Loghain is one of the only men in the entire country that would hold as much power and respect as Bryce Cousland, aside from the King.

From the Landsmeet sequence, we also know that even if you bring up the argument that Loghain abandoned Cailan to the darkspawn it will win you no votes amongst the gathered banns. Either they are unable or unwilling to believe that Loghain would be able to do such a thing, and they react negatively to your argument even though its true. Aedan is not a Grey Warden, wasn't at Ostagar, and with his pre-existing notions of Loghain would be disinclined to believe that the Grey Wardens were innocent in Cailan's death.

It wasn't until after I had completed the game a few times before I found out that Loghain actually was a good man at some point. In hind-sight, I'm extremely disappointed that there is never a way to find out via word-of-mouth what other people think of Loghain other than Alistair, his opinion of course being completely negative. It seems like a gaping hole that should have been filled previously. So, this is my logic for the chapter. Suspend your disbelief with renewed confidence, and watch the social drama unfold.

_P.S_. I just played through Ostagar again, and I think I saw Uldred. When you're with Cailan and Loghain and that random mage walks over and offers to light the beacon instead of wasting forces, is that him? I don't know how many pale bald mages there are wandering Ostagar, and I was surprised at the similar appearance.


	16. Strategy

"So, what're we doin' fer the Wardens, exactly?" Kallian asked once everybody had calmed down and things had gotten settled again. Rido and Aedan were nearby listening in on the conversation and providing moral and physical support in case things got nasty again, though Aedan was wearing his most grim face while doing it. He was in no mood to keep it a secret that he didn't approve one bit with this turning against Loghain thing.

Solona and the elderly mage Wynne were tending to Sticker and Norris. Though Solona had healed up the younger elf's legs, she'd only done a patch job at best and claimed that he needed further healing if he wanted his legs to work properly. Wynne, being the healer type that she was, agreed, and the two mages saw to it that everything was all connected and put together properly before lapsing into a quiet conversation a little off to the side. Sola was watching Noris like a hawk, obviously worried for her little brother despite being given a clean bill of health by both mages. Pita and Sticker were patrolling again once he had been patched up from the arrow to the shoulder, more to keep Pita out of everyone's hair than anything. The woman was a bundle of nerves at the best of times, and the Warden's entrance had done nothing to settle her down. That, and all of the city elves were feeling a bit tense around the Dalish elf. In the Alienage, they'd all heard terrible things about what the so-called free elves did in their spare time, none of it pleasant to hear.

Currently, the Dalish was seated on a crate, his bow leaning by his side still strung but out of immediate reach. Alistair was sitting on another nearby, his hands clasped together with his forearms resting against his knees, though the Quinari was seemingly content to stand by and glower at everything. "As you pointed out earlier," Theron gestured toward Aedan "We need spies. The ransom note on the Chanter's Board for your group mentioned that you were a constant nuisance to the nobility, having an uncanny knack for getting in and out of their manors without rousing the residents or the guard."

Kallian leaned back and folded her arms across her chest, appraising the Dalish elf silently. "We steal _stuff_." She gestured behind her in the general location of their cache of stolen goods, the mound of golden goblets and jeweled candleholders covered partially by a square of canvas. "We're not… spies an' the like. Not really. We're just doin' it ter survive."

"Well, while you're out stealing _stuff-_" Theron emphasized the word just like Kallian had, and tried his hardest not to roll his eyes "-keep an eye out for official documents, preferably the incriminating kind."

Kallian shook her head slowly. "I wouldn't know an incriminatin' document from an ass wipe." She said with a slightly defeated tone. "I figure that Sola an' Noris are the only ones here that can read any, an' they're just good with their numbers mostly." Three pairs of eyes stared at Kallian, Theron, Alistair and Aedan all shocked to hear the news that none of these elves could read_._

"You can't _read?_" Theron asked first, his tone absolutely incredulous. "No wonder the shemlen keep you flat-ears under their boot."

There was only a split second of warning when Kallian suddenly got to her feet, cocked back her arm and let her fist fly. She connected the punch with a solid _crack_ against Theron's jaw, her face flushed with rage. Theron didn't have time to properly react and literally fell off his seat when he got punched, sprawled backwards over the crate and staring at Kallian, entirely unsure what to make of the situation.

"Don't you _dare_ act all high 'an mighty just 'cuz you're Dalish." Kallian whispered, her voice trembling with her anger, glare absolutely acid and fists bunched at her sides squeezing so tight that her knuckles turned white. Everyone went silent, all eyes on her as she loomed over the Dalish elf. She was aware that the Quinari warrior had his hand on his weapon ready to fight, though Alistair looked just as dumbstruck as Theron did and made no move to draw arms. "You Dalish get to stay outta the city an' be _free._ Nobody tells you what to do 'an you worship yer pagan gods. Well here it's different. We don't got a choice but to _survive_ as best we can. That means you gotta work, an' you gotta work hard. We don't get the _privilege_ of bein' able to waste time learnin' how to read. If you wanna be able to eat, then you gotta sacrifice that. We don't live like this 'cuz we _like_ it. We live like this 'cuz there's no other _choice_."

Slowly, Theron drew himself up, rubbing his jaw where a splotch of purple was beginning to form in the shape of Kallian's fist. "You could leave." He replied calmly, though his eyes were simmering with dark anger, just barely leashed beneath the surface.

"An' go where, exactly?" Kallian retorted hotly, spreading her hands in a helpless gesture. "Outta the Alienage? Yeah! Because _every_ elf that's ever tried that's ended up worse than poor! You end up _dead_ if you try an' pretend that you ain't some dirty gutter scum knife-ear. Where would we go outta the city? To the Dalish? Yer people are half a legend, and the other half monsters. Any of the elves that try an' leave to join you either get caught an' are punished by the guards or we never hear from 'em again. It's hard enough knowin' that yer in the _country_, an' that's sayin' nothin' of actually _findin'_ you damned tree huggers."

"I don't have to take this from a flat-ear." Theron said with a wave of his hand, grabbing his bow and shouldering it. "It was my mistake to think that I could talk some sense into you."

"What? So now yer runnin'?" She spat, her body going rigid again. "Is that all you Dalish do? Run?"

"We _survive._" Theron replied with the same amount of acid in his voice that Kallian was using, the red-headed elf looking slightly quailed by the statement for once, though she didn't back down. "We Dalish are tasked with remembering the trials of our people and recovering our shattered past. I wouldn't expect a _flat-ear_ to understand, since you've been content to forget what our people were and wallow in squander."

"_Content?_ You think we're _content?_" Part exasperated, part bewildered and mostly angry, Kallian was very tempted to punch Theron in the face again. "Do you even know what the shems do to us when we try an' get things changed? They close the doors an' throw away the key. They send soldiers into our home, an' if we so much as _sneeze_ wrong, they'll gut you. Rebellions are always met with a Purge, an' many of us die for tryin' to get a better lot in life. So don't talk to me about bein' _content_."

"Enough." He made a gesture to quiet Kallian, and then nodded to Alistair, who got to his feet. "I'll spare your life because it's obvious that you are no enemies of ours, but having any further dealings with you seems like more trouble than it's worth. I hope we never have the misfortune to meet again."

Her face flushed with anger, and Kallian made a mocking curtsy to the elf. "_Thank_ you ever so much for yer benevolence in sparin' our worthless lives, O Great Mighty Dalish."

"Kallian…" Aedan murmured, getting to his feet as well and standing at the elf's side, placing a warning hand on her shoulder.

Theron snorted but otherwise made no reply, a disgusted look on his face as he turned to leave the ship assembly building, Alistair and Sten close in tow. Wynne and Solona said something to one another quickly before the younger mage hugged her former teacher and let the matronly woman go with the rest of her party.

"Kallian, are you _trying_ to get us all killed?" Aedan asked once the Wardens were well out of the door. The others gathered had all eyes on the two, wondering if their fearless leader had finally popped a screw.

"What, you wanted me to sit there an' take it?" The elf turned on Aedan quickly, her anger at the Dalish obviously unabated despite his departure and getting the last word.

"I want for you to _not_ punch a Grey Warden in the face." He replied, refusing to be cowed by Kallian's display of anger. "He deserved it for the things he was saying to you, so I understand your anger. But Kallian, the four of them were incredibly strong. I'm not sure that we could have beaten them if it came down to a fight."

"Tch, I've been fightin' against the odds my whole life. I ain't gonna sit here an' be lectured to 'bout how my people are cowards by some uppity Dalish, Warden or no Warden." Though she tried to simply wave off the argument, Aedan stopped her with an outstretched hand, and Kallian's vivid green eyes snapped to his face, all venom and barbs.

"All the same." He tried for a gentle tone, but it came out far more stern than what he was aiming for. "We need to be more careful about who we make enemies of." They locked gazes for a moment, then Kallian turned and stalked off, claiming that she was going to go see where Pita and Sticker had gotten off to on their patrols.

•º•.•º•

His dog's bark was the first indication that something was up in the forest. The mabari only barked once, then a rumbling growl settled deep in his chest, the animal crouching low to the ground with eyes locked on the forest beyond.

"Foe or beast, Falonfen?" Theron asked quietly, his bow already drawn with an arrow ready to fly should something leap out of the bushes unexpectedly. Night crept over the land, and he was on first watch for the night, the others no doubt already sleeping back at camp around a banked fire. He'd simply been too full of thoughts in order to go to sleep just yet, so had planned on exhausting himself by doing an extremely thorough patrol around the camp. They weren't far from Denerim, but given their luck, he would be unsurprised to see a genlock or a hurlock come stumbling out of the brush. It certainly wouldn't have been the first time a patrol of darkspawn managed to unwittingly stumble on their camp.

A bush rustled with movement and Theron immediately sighted the tree with his bow, aiming at about waist height. He didn't feel the nagging tug of darkspawn, and his hound didn't bristle and begin to go mad, only continued to stand warily by Theron's side. Something crashed ungracefully through the bush and suddenly there was an elf standing there. Narrowing his eyes, Theron let his grip on his bow relax, recognizing the hot-headed elf woman from before stepping around a bush, pulling leaves and twigs out of her hair. "This is no place for a city dweller." He drawled, watching the woman carefully. "What are you doing out here?"

"Well, you know, you take a wrong turn at the market an' suddenly yer in the middle of the woods. Funny how that happens, eh?" She responded with a lackluster tone of dry humor, patting herself down for more bits of forest stuck to her hair and clothes before meeting Theron's gaze. "Don't be gettin' your skirts in a twist there, Grumpy. Look, I ain't gonna apologize, but I do wanna say that it's no good fer us to be at odds. I don't like you much, an' you aren't by biggest fan, I know. But I wanna see Howe gone, an' I figure you do too since he's Loghain's right-hand man. We'll get dirt on him if that'll get him outta the picture."

Theron considered her words, a humorless grin tugging at his lips. "That's the worst alliance proposition I've ever heard." He saw Kallian go rigid at that, and couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him. Whatever her faults as a flat-ear, she certainly had a spine, something he would never have expected from a city-born elf. "We're headed to the Frostback mountain range right now." He said, shouldering his bow and tapping the feathers of his arrow against his leg absently. "We will be gone from Denerim for some time, and probably cut off from much of the rumors of the land while we're there. I don't want to come back to Denerim and try to face Loghain with nothing against him. Any information that could prove damning in the eyes of the other shemlen nobility you could provide would be a great boon to our cause."

Kallian nodded in understanding, eying the mabari at Theron's side. "Alright, I get it. There's a slaver operation that I'm sure is bein' supported from the top, so I'll see if we can't get papers from them or somethin'. That's a start, I figure." For a moment she simply stared at him, then as if realizing that she was forgetting something, Kallian started and began unraveling one of the red gloves around her hand. Once she'd gotten it unraveled, she walked forward and held it out for Theron to take. "If yer ever in Denerim wear this. It'll probably save you from getting' mugged by one of my people."

Hesitantly, Theron took the red cloth, examining it carefully before enclosing his fist around it.

"Good luck." She offered a respectful nod of her head, then simply left without another word.

He could hear her as she made her way unskillfully through the forest -far worse than any fledgeling Dalish- and watched blankly where she'd disappeared through the bushes. Theron glanced down to the cloth in his hand and opened his fist, looking at it again. His hound whined, tugging on Theron's belt strap and licking his hand once. "You're right, forgive me. It does no good to stand here and wonder at the strangeness of the city-born elves." He smiled and gave the big hound a pat on the side of his thick neck, tucking the cloth into a loop on his belt for the time being.

With bow in hand once more, elf and hound continued their night patrol, wandering through the forest and checking every shadow for danger.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> Originally, this chapter wasn't planned, which is why it's a bit on the skimpy side. I was going to make a passing reference to the events that happened in this chapter in the next one, but DeadlyHaven gave me a suggestion and I took it. I wanted to get Theron's personality hammered out a bit since he's still kind of an unknown to me, and of course who better to bring out his rageful side than Kallian? Unfortunately, the more I wrote, the more I realized that the two needed to have it out with each other before they were happy. Plus, I got to use the "You wouldn't understand" BS line as the PC in the process! 8D You've no idea how badly I've been itching to do that.

Aedan Disapproves -20


	17. Revelation

**AN:** Sorry for leaving everyone hanging Friday. I went with a group of friends to an anime convention this past weekend, so I spent the week beforehand imitating a Chinese sweatshop woman and working on cosplays like mad. I didn't forget about you! I just had no time to update! Also, I saw someone cosplaying as Morrigan while it was there. It was epic.

* * *

><p>The night was dark with no moon in the sky to light it, the weak shimmer of the stars barely able to illuminate the dark forest of masts that swayed on the swell of the ocean. Under the cover of this dark night moved a small group, confident in their safety as they navigated the docks. Armor creaked, seven of the marchers equipped from head to toe in their battle gear, hands on hilts of swords and watching the handful of elves that they escorted through the dark of Denerim city and out onto the docks. The elves were silent save for sniffling or pained cries when an armored escort would lash out at them for falling behind or stepping too far out of rank and file, but it was hard given that each of them were bound at the wrists to each other. Among them, two mages headed the walking group, their presence notable for the strange clothing that they wore, their lack of armor and over use of feathers marking them easily as mages from Tevinter.<p>

The silent procession continued to weave their way amongst the ships and crates, then everything became drastically less orderly when an explosion of green gas plumed into the air. One of the mages that had been leading the procession tripped flat on her face, breaking a trip wire that sent another plume of the sluggish green mist spreading out over the slavers and their prisoners. Those who breathed the stuff in started coughing and sputtering, the mind-numbing mist providing a curtain of cover as three elves dashed out from hiding places behind crates and barrels to sink their knives into the backs of any slaver near by, red handkerchiefs tied around their faces to keep from being similarly effected by the mist.

The mage that had fallen unsteadily got to her feet, fingers fumbling to find the hilt of a knife in her robes and quickly brought the blade across her palm. Power bloomed, causing a near physical ripple of energy in the air, and the elves immediately turned on the source. A glass vial soared through the air and exploded at the mage's feet, a glowing blue powder shimmering in the air from the shattered vial. The mage balked, the powder causing her to cough and stumble over herself. A fourth elf that had been hiding amongst the boxes came out of concealment and sunk a dagger between the mage's shoulder blades.

The second mage having been left to his own devices was gathering power and in a startling burst of energy seemed to light the whole sky with a ball of fire. Flames erupted around the elves, captured or otherwise, and screams of pain rose from the gathered group. From there it was a pitched battle, the four remaining armored guards pitting themselves against the four rogue elves, the final remaining blood mage working his dark magic to quickly subdue their attackers.

Just as the mage slit his wrist and used the surging power of his blood to enslave all of the elves in the immediate vicinity, he froze. Ice crept up from the docks and splayed out across his skin, encasing him solidly. The elves that had been silently suffering with boiling blood dropped limply where they stood, then tried to regain necessary seconds as the four slavers rushed forward to fill the void of action.

A threatening howl split the night, and a single four-legged animal darted out of the shadows. The mabari war hound tackled the first armored man he came across, barreling the man to the ground and tearing viciously at his armor, scratching every exposed bit of flesh his claws could find. Two armored men tore out of the shadows after the hound, one bearing a shield and sword, the other dual long knives. Both joined the fray, taking the pressure off of the struggling elves and the slavers instantly became more desperate, finding themselves outnumbered this time. Spells rocketed from a hidden mage from further away, the caster staying well out of weapon range. The battle came to an end quickly enough, the victorious attackers silently patting down their victims for items of use before dumping the bodies into the harbor, the armor dragging them to the bottom to never be seen again.

The elves that had been enslaved watched this quietly with frightened gazes, wondering what was to become of them now. However, there was hope in the pained whispers as they watched, and finally one of the masked elves attended to them, brandishing a key that he'd pulled off the corpse of one of the mages and began the process of unlocking them all. Many whispered thanks were exchanged, and the elves, uncertain of their fates, stood by. Some disappeared into the night, but most remained behind, helping others to their feet.

Solona made her way over to the group, nodding to Noris and Rido as the two stood watch, waiting for the guard to inevitably show up. Their battle had not been a quiet one, and already warning bells could be heard echoing in the distance. They had little time to start moving. "Please be calm." She said over the heads of the elves, who quieted when the mage addressed them. "You are free, so the choice of what to do next is yours. However, returning to the Alienage will be impossible for you. If you have family or connections outside of Denerim, go there. If not, then come with us. We can offer safe harbor." There was muttering, and three more elves disappeared into the night, but the rest stayed looking all the world like sheep that were looking for guidance.

Silently, Kallian ran down the docks, Pita in tow as the two elves honed in on the ambush site. They were greeted with a call of hello when Sticker noticed the two, and she pulled up short in front of Solona. "The guard's been alerted." She murmured, and Solona nodded, then walked over to Aedan, easily recognizable for his height among all the elves. Oen stood at his side, fidgeting slightly, both men equipped with heavy armor that they'd managed to fairly buy at the market with the loot that they'd been pulling off the slavers. "Keep 'em off our backs fer a bit while we get these ones back to base." The three nodded and Keran gave a low short bark, his stubby tail wagging. "The rest of you, follow me if ya wanna keep yer freedom!" She started heading back toward the inner city, the other members of the Knifers following in her wake. The elves were quick to follow along, the procession of elves disappearing into the darkness of the city.

There was quiet on the docks for a little while, Aedan, Oen, Solona and Keran holding their ground, alert for signs that the guard was coming. The Knifers had been holding raids on the Tevinter slavers for weeks now ever since the Wardens had requested aid in distracting Loghain enough that they could tour the country recruiting allies. It was something that they had all agreed on, Aedan not at all being a fan of pitting himself against the Hero of River Dane, regardless of the crimes that he was being accused of. However, his resistance to the idea that Loghain was completely innocent of the rumors was degrading by the day. The presence of the Tevinter slavers was not something small and easily glossed over. The mages made very little attempt to hide their powers, which told Aedan that somebody was interfering with the sacred duty of the Chantry to keep the mages in check, especially the ones that belonged to the Black Divine. He could only imagine what the Grand Cleric would think if she found out that Denerim was playing host to an infestation of blood mages.

The final nail in the coffin had been that every time they had managed to ferret out the slaving operation, it was to discover that they just happened to be taking the only route that no guards were stationed at for the night. Somebody high in the ranks was pulling strings to make sure that the slavers went unnoticed by the common guard, incompetent as they were. Initially, Aedan had been eager to pin the blame on Howe, his position as the Arl of Denerim serving as an excellent excuse to tinker with the guards. However, he had also come to the realization that Loghain couldn't have been entirely ignorant of the Arl's dealings, seeing as the man practically lived in Denerim now. If he wasn't prowling the Bannorn looking to subjugate the lesser nobility, then he was looming in Denerim, speaking for the Queen and issuing orders and threats in equal measure if the willful Banns didn't immediately submit to his rule.

The Teyrn had only been Regent for six months, and already the kingdom was crashing down around his ears. Only the stubborn pride of the Banns and Loghain's sheer force of will were keeping things together and preventing the citizenry from falling head-long into full-blown panic. The Blight had also been a confirmed terror, the rumors no longer the whimsy of tired refugees that were half mad with thirst and hunger. Arl Eamon's recovery had brought with it a prominent voice that revealed the startling truth of the state of the south and what havoc the darkspawn wrought. The destruction of Lothering was household fact now, and the fate of a handful of southern lying Banns were common topics of gossip, none of which were pleasant to hear. One Bann had retreated entirely from his home, bringing with him what little troops had survived an outbreak of darkspawn, the soldiers now stationed in a permanent camp outside of the city's walls. It was a constant reminder of the danger that they were all in, though none of the ghastly beings had actually made it to Denerim as of yet, which was a blessing. The city was already in a desperate state, adding another tragedy to the mix would do no one good.

Once it was clear that no guards were coming to their immediate vicinity, the four started moving in the direction that Kallian had taken, heading back to their base of operations warily. Their job was to catch any guards who might have caught wind of the elven liberation group that was growing in the docks area and silence their inquiries.

By the time that dawn broke over the city, word had spread that there was another mishap on the docks, though nobody seemed entirely sure what the cause was, or why it was allowed to continue. Weary, battered and needing a good rest, the four entered the ship assembly building, confident that they had taken care of any guards too clever for their own good.

The assembly building had undergone a radical transformation. It was like a mini Alienage in here, crammed with elves that had escaped the clutches of the Tevinters with the help of the Knifers but had nowhere else to go. The result was that there were hammocks hanging from the ceiling everywhere with only enough space for a person to pass between them sideways. Privacy was a nonexistent thing, and it was hot from the fire that burned in the forge almost constantly. The air was heavy with the smell of people, but the body odor was covered by a more pleasant scent of cooking. Some of the elves that they had rescued were from Denerim and had jobs in the city. What little income they had was piled together for food, clothing, and other necessities. It was a sparse lifestyle, but it wasn't anything that the elves weren't used to, and they adapted quickly to it.

Early on when they had started collecting refugees, Kallian had noted that not all of the elves were from Denerim's Alienage. In fact, she did not recognize a fair few of them. Upon questioning, it was found out that they were from other Alienages from other cities, the majority of the strange faces coming either from Amaranthine or Highever. Those from Highever had lamented the death of their Teyrn, recalling with fondness that though it was still an Alienage, at least the one that they had come from was safer than the rest under Bryce's time as leader. Aedan had started to become afraid that some of these elves would recognize him, assuming that at least one of them may have worked in the castle at some point, or even lived there as part of the staff. It set his blood to boiling every time he heard one of the sad tales of how their Alienage was being subjugated as cruelly as the rest under Howe's authority, just another reason to have the man put out of power as soon as possible. Like Aedan needed any more reasons.

He and Solona as the only humans were still given some space by the elves. The ones from Denerim and Amaranthine watched the mage and the warrior like hawks, though the ones from Highever were far more tolerable, and it showed in the sleeping arrangements. The two had settled down in their corner of the assembly building, silently dressing down to sleep the morning away until they were called on again to train the elves who would stand and fight later in the afternoon. Typically, they were left to themselves unbothered unless Solona's skill as a healer was needed, but today it seemed like Kallian had some business with them.

As the leader of the Knifers, she had immediately assumed responsibility for the refugees that they were collecting at an astonishing rate, and they followed her lead. However, that also made her in charge of looking after their well being, and this past week the redhead had started getting agitated with the press of bodies in the limited space of the assembly building. She had also started getting paranoid of their little operation being discovered, a well-founded suspicion, all things considered. They didn't catch the Tevinters shipping out slaves every week, though Kallian was convinced that they had a regular running while the Tevinter ship was in port. She had tried to destroy it once, but that had turned out to be a disastrous folly from which nearly all of them had died, and a few actually had lost their lives. With the movement of all the elves, it was bound to pass that someone would finally figure out that there was a nest of estranged near-slaves hiding out here. It was only a matter of time.

Kallian leaned against the wall, watching Aedan take off his heavy plate and chain armor for a few moments while Solona collected herself, drinking a lyrium potion with the expectation that her healing services would be needed before she was allowed to rest. "We've got a problem." The elf stared past them, her gaze not quite focused on any one object, but distant and thoughtful.

"We've several, if I remember correctly." Aedan quipped, unbuckling his chest plate and setting it down gently alongside his sword and shield. "You'll need to be more specific."

Kallain rolled her eyes, but didn't choose to retort in kind. "It's the space. We've managed to keep everythin' hunky dory so far, but it's only a matter of time. One case of the flu, an' we're all sick fer a week. We've had a few close calls with clever guards, too, and I ain't keen to be set on by the Arl's men."

Solona rubbed her temples, sitting down in her hammock and looking up at Kallian. "But we've discussed this. There's no bigger place that we can occupy. Our only other alternative would be to find a second hideout and try and coordinate between the two locations."

"Which is even riskier, I know." Kallian finished, looking about as weary as Solona was, the two women lapsing into silence for a moment. "But we need to do somethin' 'afore it's too late. There's gotta be somethin' that we haven't thought of yet…"

The silence stretched for a long while, broken only by the constant hum of chatter from the elves in the background. Aedan sat in his own hammock and started pulling off his greaves, a frown on his face. "There is… one place that we may be able to go."

Both Solona and Kallian looked at him, though were unable to meet his eyes since he was concentrated on pulling the last of his armor off, and so was not looking at them in return. "Well?" Kallian hedged, cocking her head to the side. "I ain't a mind-reader."

Aedan waited until he had all of his armor off before looking up and meeting the elf's gaze, examining her silently. The two didn't always see eye to eye, literally and figuratively, but they'd developed something of an understanding of one another. They could be described as friends, but that wasn't precisely the right word to use. They argued a lot for friends, especially considering points of morality. "Before I tell you anything, I want your word that if you find what I say to be disagreeable that you won't attempt to kill me outright."

The elf snorted, an amused grin appearing on her face. "Awe, Basher, you know that I'd never stab ya out of hand. I'm facin' ya, for one thing." Basher was the nickname that she'd given Aedan without being prompted, which was another point of contention amongst the two. Solona had quit trying to correct Kallian about using the nickname 'Ammy' some time ago and therefore avoided that particular argument. She'd tried convincing Aedan that it was a lost cause, but he was determined to get back at her somehow.

"This is true." He replied with a small grin of his own, though it faded quickly. "My idea is this; we occupy one of the empty estates in the nobility quarter."

For a moment, Kallian just stared at him with a dumb look on her face, trying to figure out if he was serious or not. "Sure, that'd work, 'cept fer the live-in maids that'd report us ter the guard right away. 'An you know that there's talk of a Landsmeet soon. All the dusty nobles are gonna be airin' their halls."

Aedan was shaking his head before she even stopped talking. "I know for sure that at least one estate will be holding no noble family for this Landsmeet." A pained look crossed his face briefly, but he soldiered on. "And the live-in servants would… not trouble us."

Kallian cocked an eyebrow, obviously skeptical. "Explain yerself Basher."

Solona shot Aedan a worried look, her fingers twisting in the hem of her shirt in her lap nervously. Aedan only gave her a half-baked look of reissuance before inhaling deeply. "Some months ago, the Teyrn of Highever and his entire family were killed. Howe, despite having been appointed the Teyrn seems like he's been content to make his home in the Denerim estate as the Arl here, leaving the Highever estate abandoned."

"Alright, that takes care of the Landsmeet, but what 'bout the staff?" Kallain's face had gone surprisingly neutral, her game face on now. Whatever thoughts she had about this new development, she was keeping to herself, though she did glance once at Solona, who was wearing her heart on her sleeve again.

"I can… deal with them." Aedan replied carefully, wondering how much he could reveal without Kallian jumping to dangerous conclusions. "They would know me, and I doubt that they would be unhappy to see me amongst them."

For a long moment Kallain simply studied Aedan's face, her thoughts firing away as she tried to piece things together. Truth be told, she had come to be rather fond of Aedan. He had a sense of humor buried underneath his dour demeanor, and he was level headed and a killer strategist when the occasion called for it. At first she hadn't liked him because he'd been so quiet that she thought he was intentionally being standoffish because she was an elf. As she got to know him, however, she came to discover that his silence was a product of a greater factor that probably only Solona was aware of. He was wicked with a blade as well, and had developed an easy camaraderie with the elves that he'd trained in swordplay. He was loyal too, fiercely so, and she recognized that he was the sort of man that once pledged to a task would fulfill it no matter the risks. She'd come to the realization that the only reason she felt she couldn't trust him was because he kept himself closed off from everyone but Solona, and even the mage was not privy to his every thought. He was easy enough to get along with, but he held people at a distance, as if he had some great terrible secret that he was hiding from everyone. It made her nose itch, and made her more privy to argue with him because of her own unsettled opinion of him.

"Who are you?" She finally asked, standing away from the wall and crossing her arms loosely over her chest, finally allowing her neutral expression to slip in favor of one that was equal measures concerned and curious. She had been suspicious of his claim to be a simple sword-for-hire for a long time now. He was too righteous, too smart, and too damned good with a blade to be a common street thug. And he didn't speak like a slummer either, his mannerisms too refined to have been brought up in some back alley.

Aedan met her stare for a long time until Solona started fidgeting in earnest. "Aedan…" She murmured, drawing his gaze for a few seconds. "If we go, she's going to find out anyway."

After a moment of silent contemplation, Aedan sighed, nodding. "You remember your promise? To not kill me out of hand?"

"Aye."

"Then there's nothing for it…" He stood and retrieved the battered shield that he kept by his side always, the metal old and coppery. The hide that had been stretched upon it to be marked with heraldry was a tattered mess, but mostly covered whatever was underneath it still. Carefully, he removed the stretched leather, revealing the enameled sign underneath, two green laurels outlined in white and azure. "This is the heraldry of House Cousland." He stated simply, his fingers tracing the familiar pattern before turning to look at Kallian directly. "I am the second son of Bryce Cousland, and by rights of inheritance, the true Teyrn of Highever."

* * *

><p>AN: BWAHAHAH! I've been waiting to pop that line forever. This chapter's a little longer than usual, which is why I've left you with such an awesome cliffhanger. Of course, we all knew who he was, but poor Kallian just got the shock of her life right here. Her reaction in the next chapter, and more fun things. There's a lot going on now that we're halfway through the DA:O timeline. So, sorry if anybody _really_ wanted me to go on a week-by-week basis on these chapters, but that's not happening. All the fun and exciting things start happening when the ball gets rolling around Landsmeet time, anyway. Nothing like a congregation of nobility to start bringing things to a head.

The Warden's Progress:

Arl of Redcliffe :: _Complete_  
>Broken Circle :: <em>Complete<em>  
>The Urn of Sacred Ashes :: <em>Complete<em>  
>Nature of the Beast :: <strong>In Progress<strong>  
>A Paragon of Her Kind :: Unstarted<p> 


	18. Moving On

"WHAT?"

Her screech silenced the entire building, all eyes drawn to Kallian's rigid form. She stared at Aedan with her mouth gaping open, completely unconcerned with the fact that she was doing so.

Aedan winced visibly at the sheer volume that the small elven woman managed to produce in her surprise, rubbing one of his ears that had set to ringing. "A little warning would be appreciated next time." He muttered, glancing up to see that all eyes in the room were focused in their vicinity. All the attention made his palms itch, and he became worried that if Kallian was set on taking the news hard that things might get ugly.

"Warning?" Kallian exclaimed in disbelief, her face still registering the pure shock she felt. "WARNING? You announce that you're a_ Maker-be-damned-Teyrn_ and you want me to _warn_ you 'afore I get surprised?" She was giving him a look like he was stupid, or had grown a second head, or had just kicked her puppy, or maybe all three at once. It was hard to tell. "_Andraste's great flaming ass!_" She put both hands to her head, rubbing her temples and closing her eyes, her whole forehead scrunched up in concentration.

Sticker and Rido came over, both of them looking ready to handle trouble, warily staring at their two human companions. "What's the problem, Kallian?" Rido asked, his hands resting easily on the hilts of his daggers. "Trouble?"

She attempted to wave him off, but Rido wasn't budging, his concern only growing when Kallian remained silent. "Are you kidding me?" She asked with sudden vehemence, snapping her eyes open to glare at Aedan. Without waiting for him to answer, she looked at Solona. "Is he kidding me?"

The mage gave her a pained smile. "No, not at all."

"Kallian…?" This time it was Sticker, the elf taking a step forward when no explanation was being given out for her outburst.

With a heavy sigh, Kallian let her hands drop to her side, not meeting Aedan's eyes when she turned around and lifted her hands above her head with palms facing out toward the crowd. Usually it would be used as a silencing gesture, but it was already silent as the grave in the room with all of the elves startled as they were. "It seems that we've been hostin' an important guest." She announced and looked over her shoulder once at Aedan. "The Teyrn of Highever has invited us to stay in his estate." There was an audible gasp from the collected elves, the sound far more profound coming from the cluster of elves that hailed from Highever.

One elf came forward, a girl with black hair and dark eyes, her movements timid and bird-like. She was a little singed around the edges and bore the burns of a magical fire, indicating that she was one of the newest set of would-be slaves that they had managed to liberate from the Tevinters. She halted a few feet just in front of Aedan, her dark eyes scanning him thoroughly, gaze flicking to his shield then face and back. A shuddering sigh left her, and tears sprung to her eyes. "My lord…" She whispered, then sank to one knee with her arms spread to either side. "Your Grace, I am glad to see that you survived."

The single elf's action lead to a curious ripple effect among the Highever born elves, all of them taking the same pose with a delayed reaction until they were all on one knee, facing Aedan. The rest of the elves looked distinctly uncomfortable with this development, though some of them did bow their heads in respect. The others who didn't looked anywhere but at Aedan and the other elves showing their submission.

"Your Grace." Kallian said slowly, a smile twitching at the corner of her lips. She gave him a half-bow, rather enjoying the stricken look on Aedan's face when he saw that everyone was taking a knee for him. "So, what's the first order of business, eh?"

If it was odd to suddenly have a room full of elves bowing to you when before they had been content to ignore you, then hearing Kallian asking for direction was an even stranger thing still. "I would have everyone rise, first." He said loudly enough for all to hear. Slowly, the elves that had bowed straightened, and those that had taken a knee stood, listening to him with rapt attention. He met their eyes slowly, wondering if this was what it was like for his father to make an address to the people, knowing that every one of them was hanging on your every word. "Second, I will need to take a small party with me to the estate and make contact with those already there in order to clear the way. Afterwards, we should be able to move everyone to the estate." Silence stretched for an uncomfortable moment before Aedan realized that they were waiting for him to say more, so cleared his throat to speak again. "That is all." The Highever born elves gave him another respectful bow then turned and went about their business. The other elves in the room followed their example, and the chatter began up again, though at a lesser volume than before.

Kallian sighed and shook her head, giving Aedan a long appraising look. "I figured that the only time I'd ever come face to face with a Teyrn would be at my execution." She murmured slowly, crossing her arms loosely over her chest. "But here it seem that I've been bleedin' with one this whole time. Ma was right. There _are_ kind shems in the world."

"What do you mean?" Aedan asked, feeling a little better now that all eyes weren't on him and looking for a speech.

"When I was younger, my ma was captured by the city guard an' taken away from us for a long time." She replied, her expression carefully neutral to hide whatever it was that she really felt about that dark time so long ago. "My pa told me that we'd never see her again, an' we started preparin' fer her funeral. But she came back, dirty an' battered but alive. Once she'd recovered, she told me the story of how when she was imprisoned she thought fer sure that it would be the end of her. She was always gettin' into all sorts of trouble with the city guard, an' this was the last straw. But a shem woman came in an' set them all free. Picked the locks on the door and told them to run. She told me; 'Kali, there are good humans in this world. You just have to let them help you.' I didn't wanna believe her but…" She gestured to Solona and Aedan with an outstretched hand. "Then you two come along an' set me free from them slavers, patch me up, an' then run with me as Knifers. Yer who my ma was talkin' about, no doubt."

A weary sort of smile appeared on Aedan's face after hearing the tale. "Thank you for trusting us, then. I don't know where we would be right now if you hadn't helped us on our return to Denerim."

Kallian nodded, grinning to herself. "Who knows? But enough 'bout that. What's yer plan, your Grace? We got a house full of elves that need relocating."

Aedan heaved a heavy sigh and ran his hands through his hair, messing up his dark brown locks. "Well, I think that I'd like you to come with me to the estate, but not until evening." He looked over his shoulder to Solona. "You as well. But I wouldn't want to bring more than that. If Rebecca is still in charge of household matters at the estate, then I wouldn't want to vex her overmuch. She will probably be flustered enough when she learns that I am still alive, and bringing a whole host of elves along with me would probably send her to her grave with worry." He smiled at some private joke, recalling the tendency that the matronly woman had to jump to conclusions and worry about every single little thing that could possibly be worried about. "Besides, there's a small chance that Howe could have his own agents there. I don't know why he chooses to stay in the Denerim estate as opposed to the Highever one, but that doesn't mean he might not be in the habit of visiting his conquest every once and a while. Going as a small group would be less remarkable to anyone watching the place."

"Good, I wanted to sleep anyway." Kallian replied easily, making a show of yawning. "Then we'll head out 'afore sunset. Rest easy, your Grace."

Aedan shook his head when Kallian left, heaving a heavy sigh. "I'm glad that everything is finally out in the open, and that I haven't been stabbed for my heritage."

Solona smiled, walking over and squeezing his arm gently. "Under that gruff exterior, Kallian is actually a nice person. We're lucky to have saved her."

"Indeed." He watched the redhead go over to a cluster of Denerim born elves and begin talking to them, the small group clustering around her and paying attention to whatever it was that she was telling them. "She's been a good ally."

"And a good friend." Solona added, to which Aedan nodded slowly.

•º•.•º•

Aedan, Solona, Kallian and Keran left the assembly building together when dusk rolled around, several elves departing at the same time that they did to start patrols. Kallian was taking no risks about being discovered, and so with so many elves to utilize she had set up regular patrol schedules to warn them if anyone of authority was making a b-line toward their secret base. The warning system hadn't been used so far since the day that the Wardens came, which was a blessing.

The four silently walked through the city toward the noble quarter, Aedan leading the way since this was his party. He had avoided wearing armor, leaving everything except for his sword behind in the assembly building. It would attract an undue amount of attention for him to go fully clad in armor, and was confident enough that there would be no attacks from guards here as long as they did nothing rash.

The further they walked, the more lavish the houses became, and the more uncomfortable Kallian got. She was a bundle of nerves, eyes darting around in every direction, her fingers clenching and unclenching. Aedan had to convince her to leave her weapons behind and trust him to deal with any guards that stopped to question why an elf was outside of the Alienage so close to sunset. The cover story was that Aedan and Solona were some important nobles that had taken a tour of the city, Kallian being their dutiful elf servant that tagged along everywhere to fulfill their whims. Kallian had not been happy with the arrangement, but neither did she complain overly much, knowing that anybody would buy the story. Aedan could exude the air of nobility, something he'd been trying to keep under wraps during his time serving for Kallian with spotty success. Solona didn't exactly have the bearing of a noble lady, but she could step lightly enough and play the demure wife card pretty well, having plenty of experience from her time in the Circle acting in the submissive role.

The ruse had been completed by dressing up the two humans in noble clothes that the Knifers had swiped on one of their raids, and Kallian had changed out of the blood-stained dull rags she'd taken to wearing, instead wearing something a little more appropriate for a trusted elf servant. It was a little big on her, since the garment had been made for a human, but Solona had done a fairly decent job on hemming it so that it didn't look like Kallian was swimming in the fabric.

Apparently, their disguises worked well enough, for they weren't once stopped on their way through the city. When they finally reached the Highever compound, it was to find the place looking absolutely deserted. None of the torches on the high stone wall surrounding the estate were lit, and there was nobody patrolling the borders. The large metal gate was closed, barring entrance to the compound.

"I was afraid of that." Aedan muttered to himself then gestured for the two women to follow him. He walked around the side of the wall until he found a door and tried the handle. "Locked. Kallian?"

"Let me at it." She lifted the hem of her skirt, revealing a pair of pants underneath until she found the pouch that she always carried on hand with her lock picking tools in it. Digging around for a little bit, she found what she needed and crouched in front of the door, working at the lock. It took her a few minuets, but the door finally opened with a satisfying _click_ and Kallian stood, putting her lock pick back. "After you."

Aedan nodded his thanks, entering through the door that came into a hallway. It stretched left along the inside of the wall and would lead to a set of stairs and the device to lift the gate. Instead, he simply opened a second door on the direct opposite side of the hall, which let the four out into the yard inside the gates. They stood on a beaten dirt path that lead around the entire estate, currently facing the east wing of the house, which served as a lodging for guests. If they went left they would go to the courtyard and main entrance, but heading right along the wall would lead them to a garden and a different entrance that would be easier to access and probably not locked. Once Kallian and Solona were out in the yard as well, he closed the door behind himself and lead the way. Keran, recognizing familiar territory sped off toward the courtyard, barking as he went with joy. Aedan rolled his eyes, but didn't move to stop the dog. It would be unlikely that anyone inside the estate would hear the mabari anyway.

When they came to the gardens in back, he heard Solona gasp audibly. They had come across a wall of roses that stood as tall as Aedan was. Some of the buds had closed for the night, but the square was still full with the heavy sent of the flowers.

"It's a maze garden." He explained while leading them left to avoid the maze part and get to the east wing entrance faster. "It was built by the Orlesians during the occupation. Most of the estates in Denerim have something in them that the Orlesians left behind, and the one that occupied this estate was particularly fond of flowers and fountains." Above the hedges he could see the top of the gazebo that stood in the heart of the maze, but quickly averted his gaze. There were a lot of childhood memories here. It wouldn't do to get caught up in them.

There were windows back here, and one of them flickered with the light of a candle inside. He tried recalling the room by memory as he walked by, and came to the conclusion that it was the groundskeeper, Corbert, who must still be about and awake. When he got to the door, he simply knocked loudly and waited for someone to answer it.

He didn't have to wait long. A man with leathery sun-darkened skin answered, squinting out into the night with a candleholder in hand. He looked startled to see someone standing there, his posture immediately going defensive. "I don't know who you are or why you're here, but you're trespassing! This is the Teyrn's estate, Maker rest his soul, and if you don't leave immediately I'll call the guards!"

Kallian and Solona stiffened behind him, but Aedan was not worried, and had to try not to smile. Instead he held up a placating hand. "Corbert, I'll admit that it's been a long while since last you saw me, but don't you recognize me?" He waited a second while the man examined his face, then Keran chose to come back from digging up holes in the yard, barking with his tongue lolling out and shoved his way past Aedan's knees, licking the ground keeper's hand before the man could withdraw it to a safer height.

Cobert was astonished when he finally recognized Aedan's face, and he very nearly dropped the candle he was holding. As it was, some of the wax dripped off and hit the stone floor, his hand was shaking so hard. "Young master Aedan, is that really you?" His voice suddenly sounded very restrained and raspy, the hand that Keran had licked going to his chest.

"Aye, it is me." Aedan replied solemnly. "I am neither a ghost nor a flight of your fancy."

"My lord!" Cobert immediately doubled over, spilling more candle wax onto the floor. He held that pose for a few seconds before meeting Aedan's gaze again, a look of profound sadness and utter relief on his face. "When we heard word of what happened at Highever… We thought you dead, my lord. And then Arl Howe was proclaimed Teyrn… We were outraged, my lord, absolutely outraged. Thank the Maker that you are yet alive. Have you word of your brother? We had feared him dead as well since the news of Ostagar, but since you are alive…"

Aedan shook his head, and Cobert's face fell. "Maker rest his soul…" They shared a solemn silence for a moment, then Cobert stepped back and gestured for them to come in. "I… I suppose that I should be addressing you as your Grace from now on?"

He tried not to wince at the reminder that he was the last of his line, though he was heartened by Cobert's eagerness to see him alive. It was comforting to know that somebody else close to his family had survived. "That may not be appropriate just yet." Aedan replied, walking in over the threshold, Solona and Kallian following him silently while Keran ran through the halls of his own whims. "As you said, Howe has taken the title. I would need to call a Landsmeet in order to get my rights of inheritance settled. But with Loghain as Regent and being the one that appointed him… I'm afraid that this treachery goes deeper than I had first suspected."

Cobert didn't hide his surprise at the news, gaping openly at what Aedan was suggesting of their Regent. "That would be… treason, my lord."

"I am well aware." Aedan replied grimly. "Tell me, is Rebecca still in charge of the house staff here?"

"Aye." The groundskeeper nodded and gestured toward the interior of the house. "She's doing her final rounds before bed, I suspect. She'll be along shortly."

"Thank you, Cobert." Aedan nodded, to which he got a respectful bow out of the groundskeeper.

"Any time my lord. Maker keep you."

Aedan led the way into the house, leaving the halls that lead to the guest rooms and heading toward the foyer in the main body of the house. Kallian whistled when they walked in the large open room, her eyes traveling up to see the grand ceiling and balconies that ringed either side of the room. "This ain't nothin' like the Arl's estate." She declared, sounding immensely impressed by the grandness of the space. "Now I see why a Teyrn is only second to royalty."

"We should be able to fit everyone in here without any difficulty at all." Solona added, walking farther in the foyer until she stood in the center, rotating in a small circle as she took everything in.

"Well, I wouldn't want to put them in the foyer." Aedan replied, a small smile on his face. "There are guest rooms back in the wing that we just came from, and below in the basement are the barracks. We've plenty of room without having to resort to stringing hammocks from the banisters."

Kallian visibly tensed at the mention of the basement, though her momentary panic was totally missed by Solona, and though Aedan saw it, he chose not to ask.

"Are you going to try and claim your title as Teyrn?" Solona asked suddenly, finished with her visual exploration of the foyer and settled her gaze on Aedan instead, searching his face carefully for answers.

"Yes." There was more conviction in his voice than he felt, but there was no need to debate about it. Highever was suffering under Howe's reign if the large presence of Highever elves they had rescued so far was anything to go by. Power had corrupted him, and there was also the matter of vengeance to be settled. "Though that will take time, and support. Everyone thinks that the entire Cousland line is dead. For one to suddenly appear from the grave and try to claim his rights… Well, it would scream incredulity at best. I think that I will need to-"

"Who are you!" A voice suddenly yelled, and all eyes snapped to a door on the opposite side of the room that led to the dining hall and kitchens. A portly woman stood in the doorway, a look of fright and confusion on her winkled face as she gazed at the three in the room. Keran was standing behind her, looking a lot like how he did whenever Nan tried to scold him.

"Sorry to startle you, Rebecca." Aedan called, walking forward so that he was a little in front of Solona.

Instead of falling over herself in submission, Rebecca narrowed her eyes and stomped forward, her hands on her wide hips. "I thought it was you." She grumbled and then pointed backwards at Keran. "I was locking up the larder and first thing that hound does is run straight past me and start tearing up the place. I swear, there's no other dog in Ferelden that gets into near as much trouble as this one does."

Aedan laughed at that, unfazed by the woman's lack of respect for him in comparison to the humble greeting that Cobert had given him. "Sorry, but he was so happy to be home."

The woman's face finally softened then, and she gave Aedan a quick bow. "And we're happy to have you back, my lord. I thank the Maker that you- that you're-" She ceased trying to speak, her eyes suddenly clouding up with tears. "Forgive me, my lord, but we all took the news hard… To see that it wasn't all true…!"

Aedan allowed her show of grief for a little while, his own face having gone soft and unreadable. Solona touched his arm gently, snapping him out of whatever contemplative state that he'd sunk into and bringing him back to matters at hand. "Rebecca, I've a few questions before you retire for the night, I'm afraid."

She sniffled and withdrew a handkerchief from the folds of her skirt, wiping her eyes dry. "Of course my lord, anything."

"Has Arl Howe been to this estate yet?" Aedan refused to call the man a Teyrn, though calling him Arl was more a force of habit than a conscious decision.

Rebecca shook her head, more recovered now that she'd had a moment to breathe. "No, my lord. He's shown no interest."

"Good." He nodded, glad that things were working out so favorably thus far. "Then I'm afraid that I will have to impose some guests upon you. Some of them will be coming tonight."

"Who, my lord?" Rebecca asked, her curiosity showing in full. "And how many? There are only two of the live-in staff here, excluding myself and the groundskeeper. I could prepare dinner…"

"That will be unnecessary. And I think that you'll find my guests are quite capable." He heard Kallian snort behind him, and couldn't help but to chuckle a bit at the situation. Kallian probably wasn't going to be pleased with the idea that the elves they had rescued would be needing to help keep the place up like servants. But, he would cross that bridge when he came to it. "Please, get your rest. You'll see in the morning."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** As far as I can understand it, the event of _Leliana's Song_ takes place about four or more years before the events of DA:O. It has also been confirmed by David Gaider that the elf you set free named Adaia is in fact the City Elf's mother. She will promise Leliana that she will teach her child about humans like her when you set her free. Circles within circles, eh? This is also the reason that my version of Kallian tolerates Aedan and Solona at all and allowed them to join her band of thieves in the first place. So everyone, thank fortuitous in-game circumstances.

Again, a bigger chapter, but I hope you all don't mind too terribly much. If you're interested in seeing the map that I've crafted for the Highever estate, I've put a link for it in my profile.


	19. A Story

Moving everyone out of the assembly house and into the estate had taken a couple of days of precise planning. They didn't dare move everyone at once for fear of arousing suspicion of the neighbors. Instead, they took small groups in the morning when it was normal for elves to be out on the street and heading to work, and a steady trickle of them continued to come in for the rest of the day. Another group entered in the evening when most other elves were heading home or returning to their masters from a day out shopping.

Though Aedan had offered the guest rooms for the elves, most of them had simply rejected the idea entirely, not knowing what to do with a room with so much space allotted. The rest who would have taken up on the offer shied from the idea when they learned that they were going to be the only ones, and so most of them wound up in the barracks in the basement. The Highever born ones however took up residence in the servant's quarters almost immediately. Aedan had tried to tell them that they weren't brought here to be servants, but the leader of the group had made an offer. Simply put, they would pledge their services to him in return for promising to return the Highever Alienage to its former state under Teyrn Bryce's command. He'd agreed readily, having intended to do that from the start and realizing that making such a promise gave the downtrodden elves some hope that there was good left in the world.

Rebecca had acquainted herself with her sudden influx of new staff members, and all of them were now downstairs in the kitchen meant to cook for the Teyrn's soldiers while they were there, serving dinner.

Kallian had blatantly refused to even enter the basement, readily taking up one of the guest rooms instead, which was proper given that she was the leader. Nobody questioned why she was so vehement on staying above ground, and the matter dropped quickly. Solona took the room directly next to her for moral support if nothing else, and Aedan went by himself upstairs. The Teyrn and his family had private rooms in the upper part of the estate, and as lord of the manor, he took his place there.

Currently, Kallian was pacing in Solona's room, looking for all the world like a caged animal while the mage sat and watched her from the comfort of her bed, having no inclination to get up and try to comfort her. The elf had been at it for around half an hour now, which is when the things that needed doing suddenly all dried up. Of course, there were things to be done downstairs, but she couldn't even look at the stairs without cringing.

"I mean it, Ammy! How can these nobles deal with so much space?" She was venting, ranting about everything that came to mind when it came to her.

"I don't know." Solona replied in a bored tone of voice. Her input wasn't really needed, after all. Kallian was managing the conversation just fine by herself.

"It's like living outside, almost." Kallian continued, apparently unaware that Solona had almost completely tuned her out. "And everything is just so… so… floofy! Have you tried to sleep in that bed? It's like it's _eating_ you!"

"If you're so uncomfortable," Solona laid down in the bed, staring at the ceiling as the mattress did indeed conform to her body, though it wasn't nearly such a tragic thing as Kallian was making out to be. "…then why don't you sleep in the barracks? It's not as spacious down there, and I'm sure that the beds aren't nearly as comfortable as these ones are."

Kallian glared at her, stopping in her pacing. "Ha ha, very funny."

"No, I am being completely serious with you." With a sigh, Solona sat up and extended a hand. "Come, sit with me a while. You're going to wear holes in your shoes at the rate you've been pacing."

Kallian looked like she wanted to argue. Indeed, she had argued the last time that Solona had tried to get her to calm down, but the elf eventually came and sat next to her. She kept her back straight as a board, glaring at the floor hard enough that Solona was sure daggers would start spontaneously appearing any second. With another exasperated sigh, the mage folded her legs up onto the bed and got behind Kallian, pressing her thumbs into the tense muscles on her back. "Honestly Kallian, why so tense? We're safer here than we ever were at the docks. You've done nothing but keep yourself busy. Are you really that uncomfortable being here?"

The elf relaxed fractionally when Solona started working the kinks out of her shoulders, but didn't relax all the way. "I've never been someplace so… fancy." She replied, lifting her hand to encompass the entire estate in general. "Or if I was, it was in the dark, an' I was stealin' somethin'."

Solona had a hard time imagining the elf managing to sneak into the Gwaren estate, but managed to keep the giggle to herself. It was true that the Knifers had snuck into any number of minor noble houses in their quest to find food and supplies, but they had steered clear of the greater nobility. Most of them were surrounded by walls like the Highever estate was, which made them awkward or near impossible to try and break into. Instead she concentrated on trying to get Kallian to relax, using her magic to warm her hands and sooth the tense muscles with heat. "You should at least to try and go down there once."

"I can't." Though Solona couldn't see Kallian's face, she could imagine the restricted expression she wore, the two words she'd uttered containing a world of unspoken hurt and anxiety. "It's too… I just… I can't."

Giving Kallian a squeeze, Solona scooted to the edge of the bed so that she was sitting at the elf's side instead of behind her, their shoulders nearly touching. "You never talk about yourself." She stated, giving the elf a sideways look. "I know that I've told you some of my time in the Circle, and now you know who Aedan is. The other elves confide in you their hopes and fears, but I've never seen you once open up in return."

Solona wasn't sure if the look that Kallian gave her was one of fear or disdain, but the elf snorted, her fists clenching in the bed sheets. "It's not a story that's worth tellin'. I grew up in the Alienage, what more is there to say?"

"Well, how did you learn to fight?" The mage prompted, undeterred by Kallian's stubborn show of resistance. "The elves that I became friends with in the Circle always told me that weapons were not allowed in the Alienage at all, unless they were in human hands. You are no novice at the blades, so you must have gotten training somehow from someone."

Silence stretched between the two for a long time, then Kallian finally drew a breath, folding her hands in her lap and twisting the ring on her right hand in a nervous gesture. "My ma. It was my ma who taught me. She wanted me to grow up strong an' able to defend myself, like her." A sad smile crossed her face as she looked across the room without really focusing on anything, her thoughts elsewhere. "Pa hated it. Said that she was gonna get herself killed, an' if I learned to be like her, I'd get myself killed too. He's only been half right so far."

"I'm sorry." Solona said automatically, placing a hand gently on Kallian's arm, her voice soft. "I don't remember much of my mother, so I can't imagine what it was like to loose her."

"Don't start getting' weepy on me Ammy." Kallian shot back, shooting a mild glare at her. "I still had my pa, an' he looked after me just fine by himself. I had him an' Soris an' Shianni for family, and you didn't have nothin', so don't be feelin' sorry for me, or I'll have to whack you good."

The mage chuckled. "If you say so. But I wasn't entirely alone. There were other mages in the same predicament as I was in."

"But it ain't the same." Kallian said quickly before Solona could explain the dynamics of the Circle's social accepted norms. "My neighbors in the Alienage were family too, but it ain't nothin' like havin' blood on yer side. Yer a free mage now. Maybe after all of this is over, you can settle down somewhere an' have little Ammy's runnin' around the 'ole homestead."

Solona had the grace to turn scarlet in the face, and Kallian had a good laugh at her expense. "I was almost a housewife." The elf admitted, twisting the ring she had been playing with off her finger and handing it over. Solona inspected it carefully, the warm metal ring looking completely ordinary to her. It was crafted well enough she supposed, but was obviously not some expensive thing a noble would offer as a ring to his intended. She handed it back, and Kallian rolled the loop of metal between her fingers absently. "He was a blacksmith, a good match, everyone said. Havin' a trade is rare in elves, so we woulda had a decent life it things worked out."

"Did you not like him?" Solona asked, watching the elf's face carefully, searching for information that she wouldn't volunteer verbally.

"Wouldn't have mattered if I liked him or not. I only knew him for a few hours 'afore we were supposed to tie the knot."

"That's-"

"That's how it works." Kallian sighed, leaning back slightly on the bed, tipping her chin up to look at the ceiling instead of glaring daggers at the floor, though she still refused to look in Solona's direction. "Yer parents set ya up, an' you don't get a say in the matter."

"So, what happened?"

"Humans happened." She shuddered visibly, clenching her fists tight enough that the pressure of the ring in her palm began to hurt when it dug into her flesh. Kallian took a moment to master herself again, vaguely wondering why she was talking about this at all. "Right before I was gonna meet my fiancé, the Arl's son came trompin' in with his noble friends an' decided he was gonna crash the weddin'. They started grabbin' at us, but my cousin Shianni and me… well, we're a little _too_ similar. I distracted the rich bastards an' she bottled the Arl's brat over the head. Knocked him out cold."

She was gratified to see a look of utter wonder on Solona's face. "I would never have thought… Did you get in trouble? Is that what happened?"

Kallian shook her head. "No, I doubt he woulda ratted us out. He had just got knocked unconscious by my drunk cousin, an elf and a woman to boot! His noble pride probably wouldn't 'ave let him tell anybody about it." She let herself have a chuckle at that, the look of astonishment on Vaughn's face when he was cracked over the head rising fresh in her mind. "After everythin' blew over, the Chantry sister came an' started the ceremony. It wasn't just me getting' married, either. My other cousin, Soris, had his betrothed shipped in at the same time. We didn't get to actually say our vows, though. The Arl's son came back with a vengance an' friends, an' started grabbin' women and haulin' them away. I struggled, so they knocked me out good, an' when I woke up, I was in his estate with the others, with two doors leadin' out an' both of 'em locked."

"So you didn't break in as a thief." Solona said softly with narrowed eyes.

"Tch! You really think I coulda got in there by myself?" Kallian shot back without remorse, having no qualms at all about lying to the mage about how she'd got into the estate in the first place.

"It did sound extraordinary but…" Her voice trailed off, then she shrugged, apparently coming to the conclusion that it didn't matter anymore since she knew the truth now. "But didn't anyone stop him? Somebody must have seen you getting kidnapped. The other elves? The city guard? The Chantry sister?"

"You forget…" Kallian drawled meeting Solona's gaze for the first time since she'd started her story, a cold look of acceptance in her eyes. "We're elves. And he's human, an important one at that. Nobody gives two shakes about us anyway, an' the other elves? They were afraid of bein' punished fer standin' up fer themselves. It's always been like that. The shems come an' take what they want, an' if we try an' stop them, then we get the sword." She drew her thumb across her throat to emphasize her point.

"It's not right." Solona said immediately, her cheeks coloring slightly with indignant anger at the plight of the city elves. "Somebody should do something. Nobody should be completely helpless like that, not elves, not mages-"

"It ain't right." Kallian agreed readily, stopping Solona before she could start off on a tangent. "But that's the way it is."

"I'm sorry." She replied after a moment. "Please, continue, if you're up to it."

For a long few seconds she was sure that Kallian had decided to close up again, the retelling of her story obviously a painful one, but the elf continued, her gaze lingering on the floor once more, rolling her wedding band between her fingers. "Some guards came an' tried to take away one of my friends. She didn't want to go, an' told 'em as much, so they killed her. The guard slit her throat clean open an' laughed when she fell, going on like nothin' at all had happened.

"They took the others an' my cousin an' left me with a couple of guards who didn't look like they were fixin' to play nice. I was gonna play innocent, see if I could get 'em close enough to snatch a sword an' stab one of 'em in the back, but Soris just barges in then. An' he's not even sneaky about it! Just walks in an' says "Hello" then tosses me a sword when the guards turn their back. Well, I didn't wait fer 'em to realize what was goin' on, an' took one out right away. The other one fought back, but me an' Soris had him as well. He an' Nelaros, the guy I was supposed to be getting' married to, had come in through the back doors. Soris told me that Nelaros wasn't happy to sit back an' hope for the best like the others were, an was comin' to rescue me an' the others whether the others helped or not."

"He was very brave, then." Solona murmured, her respect for the elf man increasing the more that Kallian talked about him. Despite having admitted that she'd only known this Nelaros for a few hours, she could tell by the way that Kallian spoke when she mentioned him that she respected him greatly as well. And who wouldn't? From everything she knew about Alienage elves and everything she'd heard from Kallian, he seemed to be truly courageous.

"He was. Foolhardy, but brave." She nodded, her voice sad, but continued. "We didn't find him right away. He'd gone a different direction than Soris to try an' find the others, an' I think he was the better fighter, so he was holdin' off the Arl's men. By the time I found him it was… The guard got him. I watched him fall. He'd gotten all that way, an' then I couldn't even help-"

Solona could feel her trembling, the elf's voice suddenly choked off by a wave of emotion. Carefully, she slid her arm over Kallian's shoulders and pulled her close, hoping to offer the elf some comfort.

"If I'd gotten there sooner, maybe he wouldn't have… and Shianni…" Kallian didn't resist Solona's hug, but neither did she relax into it, remaining tense as ever with her knuckles turning white. A sudden knock at the door startled her, and she immediately pulled away, her eyes going wide and hand unconsciously dropping to where she normally kept a dagger at her belt.

Frowning, Solona rose from the bed and opened it to see who was there. Keran immediately wormed his way through the door, pausing momentarily to lick her hand before bounding in the room and setting his big head on Kallian's lap. The elf kept her face turned from the door, not daring to look up and see Aedan standing there.

"I brought dinner." He explained, a look of concentration on his face as he balanced two bowls of stew on one arm, a third held in his free hand and three spoons dangling precariously in his fingers. It took him a second to realize that Solona was scowling at him, and immediately became confused by the expression. "What? Do you not like stew?"

The mage sighed and pulled two spoons from his fingers then took the two bowls balanced on his arm from him. "No, it's not that."

"Alright…" Keran, having had his head petted and ears scratched trotted back out into the hall to go do other things, and left Aedan still standing awkwardly outside the door. "I thought since you and Kallian wouldn't be going downstairs that I'd come up here and eat with you-"

"No!"

Aedan cocked his head at the blatant denial. "Why not?" He looked over Solona's shoulder into the room and saw that Kallian was in there, though she didn't look up or give a greeting call. "Did I do something…?"

"No…" Solona sighed heavily, standing squarely in the doorway so that Aedan couldn't get through and make himself at home. "We'll eat with you another time, alright? I promise."

He really wanted to argue the point, seeing as it was no fun eating alone and Rebecca was already having a fit since he'd served himself dinner instead of waiting for her to bring it to him. She'd simply die of rage if he went downstairs and ate in the mess hall with the other elves. But Solona had that stubborn look on her face, and something was obviously wrong. "Uh, alright. I'll… uh, hold you to that, I guess?"

"Thank you, and sorry." She gave him a quick apologetic smile, then closed the door.

"Women." Aedan shook his head and Keran huffed as if in agreement, then the two left the women to their scheming.

Kallian was silent when Solona handed her the bowl and spoon, only nodding her thanks before digging in with much less gusto than she was used to seeing from the elf. Normally, Kallian inhaled anything that was set in front of her, a habit that was a direct result of being starved in prison. Now she picked at her food, lost in her own thoughts. Even so, Solona wanted to hear the elf's story out, even if she already knew what the tale included. She had heard similar tales in the Circle, more times that she would ever like to admit, and knew that it was hard to divulge such secrets.

"You found your cousin, Shianni?" Solona asked tentatively after a few silent moments of eating, and placed her bowl on the floor.

"Yeah…" She chased a chunk of potato around her bowl for a little bit, then with a resigned sigh set her bowl on the ground as well, her appetite gone. Folding her hands in her lap, she leaned forward with her elbows resting on her knees, seeming to shrink in on herself a little. "There were three guards in the room. I was tired, an' Soris was never much of a great fighter. We fought 'em an' somehow killed 'em, not rightly sure how, an' I went to Nelaros, to see if maybe I could save him but… There was too much blood, an' he was bleedin' from his chest… He handed me the ring an' died. I was so angry that he'd died to save me, an' I wanted Vaughn's head on a pike for it.

"They had Shianni on the floor, her clothes ripped up and face bruised from bein' beat. Vaughn wanted to talk, wanted me to let 'em go, but I wasn't goin' to hear none of it. He threatened that his father would burn down the Alienage if I hurt 'em, but I didn't care. He'd been terrorizing us all for so long, and I just went mad. I don't know if I actually hurt 'em or not. The bloody coward stood back an' let his friends at us first, an' _damn_ they teach those nobles how to fight! But I was so angry I didn't care that we were outnumbered. I just wanted 'em dead. There were more guards that came in behind us, an' we were beaten. Vaughn laughed at us when the soldiers put us on our knees. He ordered Soris to the dungeon an' had my weapons taken, then threw me on the floor an'…" A shudder of revulsion wracked her small frame and she hugged herself tightly, squeezing back tears. "Shianni tried to stop him even though she was hurtin' too. He hit her, hit me, called us horrible things, an' his friends helped. When he was done he sent Shiannia an' the others home, but didn't want to give me up. I'd killed half his guards, an' he wanted me to pay, wanted to make an example of me.

"The guards took me to the dungeon, laughed at me an' spit on me. I tried fightin' them off at first, but there were so many of 'em… I had to give up 'cuz I was tired, and I knew that I'd die down there. Vaughn wasn't gonna let me out, an' the soldiers would probably kill me 'afore I died of hunger, on accident if not on purpose. They liked tormentin' me. Thought it was grand fun since I couldn't defend myself, an' they visited when they were drunk, or mad. After the rebellion, they didn't come around no more. I think they all got killed, or reassigned by Howe. The new soldiers didn't pay me much mind, an' I was grateful for it. Then the rest is like I told you. They sold me to the slavers for pocket change, an' you two rescued me."

"Kallain…" Solona couldn't help the wealth of sorrow in her voice, unable to take her gaze off the forlorn elf. Without pausing to think about it she pulled Kallian into a tight hug, and the elf finally gave in, wrapping her small trembling arms around the mage in return, her face turned down to hide the tears that flowed freely down her face. "Something needs to be done. We'll change it. We'll _make_ it change. You didn't deserve that, nobody does." She gave the elf a squeeze, and the first sob escaped the elf, finally able to release all the grief and sorrow and anger she'd been inflicted with ever since that terrible day.

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><p><strong>AN:** Poor Kallian would freak out if she actually had to become a Warden after her time in the Arl's estate. Anything that even vaguely resembles a dungeon gives her claustrophobia. Anyway, slight change of the story regarding the city elf origin sequence. If you're any other origin, you can still find Soris in the dungeons of the Denerim estate, despite the fact that Duncan was obviously not present for the city elf's wedding. My thought on this is that Nelaros/M!City Elf would have tried to save the elven women with or without Duncan giving them weapons, and Soris would have come along, just like he does in the origin sequence. Obviously, circumstances would decree that the city elf origin either wouldn't survive, or would be imprisoned like Soris was. The M!CE has a greater chance of being killed by Vaughn, but there's incentive in keeping the F!CE alive, which is why Kallian is here. Sorry it took so long to get everything aired out in the open, but tada! Here it is; THE GRAND REVEAL!

PS. I'm going on vacation! :D Unfortunately, I won't be able to update for the next week and a half, so the next update will be next Friday. Don't worry, I'll be writing lots while I'm down there, so everything will get back on track when I come back. Thanks for being good sports~


	20. Secrets

**OMG 20 CHAPTERS *flaps arms excitedly* Let's have a round of huzzahs for the mile marker, eh? You guys are totally awesome. All your support keeps me enthused to keep writing this story, and I'm glad that you're all enjoying it as much as I like typing it out. Cheers, and here's to another 20! Yeah? No? Hehehe**

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><p>Denerim was silent as the night crept on, the smell of salt on the wind and fish heavy near the docks. There were any number of drunks moving about, heading home after a long day of work and a brief night of drinking and being merry. Among them walked a singular figure, cloaked in heavy material with a hood up despite the muggy warmth of the summer evening. Most paid no attention, the rest only gave a cursory glance before resuming whatever it was that they were up to. The hooded figure picked a way along the docks, eventually retreating into the winding maze-like alleyways that covered the entirety of the port front. The weaving mass of closely built roads were no place for large groups or cargo traffic, the alleys only useful for getting home quickly and only wide enough to allow access of three men abreast of each other. However, it was also a convenient place for thieves and vagabonds, the shadows and ilk that roamed the night figuring themselves safe from pursuit of the law where staging an ambush was nearly as easy as breathing.<p>

Either unaware or uncaring that entering the seedy back alleyways was a plea to get mugged, the hooded figure continued, roaming deeper into dangerous territory. It wasn't long then when a handful of shadows slid from an alleyway a little ahead of where the cloaked one was walking, a few more appearing behind.

"Oi, this is dangerous territory." One of the thugs called, a man that needed a bath badly, his beard matted with food and blood and head covered with a greasy bandanna. He bore the scars of many battles, and was built more like a battering ram than a person, all stocky muscle and grizzled sneers. "If you wanna pass, you gotta pay a toll. 30 silvers."

The seven or so other bandits chuckled at the high sum, figuring that the hooded person they had cornered wouldn't be able to pay it. Instead of being intimidated, the hooded person stood taller. "You will let me pass, or you will regret it." The voice was female, strong and piercing, silencing the thugs who had been laughing for a moment when they were confronted with such authority.

The leader cackled after a moment of tensed silence. "An' just wat do you think yer gonna do about it, little missy?" The others were bolstered by their leader's bravado, and laughed with him, closing in on the lone female. "You know what? You can go free, but'cha gotta do somethin' else fer us."

The woman sighed audibly, her head shaking slightly in disbelief. "They never learn…" She mumbled to herself, then lifted her hands, one holding a dagger and the other empty with her palm facing upward.

"Hah! You think yer gonna take us with a knife, girly?" The leader chortled, unsheathing a gnarly looking sword and advanced. "Get 'er boys!" With a rallying cry, the surrounding thugs charged on the lone cloaked woman.

Steeling her resolve, she drew the blade across her palm and power suddenly surged, a red glow bursting from her. The thugs immediately seized where they stood, a couple of them falling over and writhing on the ground in pain. Choked off gasps and murmurs emitted from the strangely contorting thugs, and the blood mage calmly walked forward until she was only a handbreadth from the leader of the group. "You should have left when you had the chance." She mumbled, and placed her bleeding palm on his forehead. The mage's form was cloaked in seething red energy and then the thug also became illuminated with it. He struggled against his own blood and flesh, managed a choked off scream, bleeding from his ears and eyes then collapsed to his knees, dead.

Power continued to surge from the blood mage and she turned, facing the other bandits as they continued to convulse in silent agony. She held her hands out, fingers splayed wide like a puppeteer would do, the red glow intensifying around her. Sweat broke out on her forehead as she concentrated hard on trying to control the bandits, but the ability seemed to slip past her reach every time. One by one the lives that were tethered to her began to fade, and a handful of the bandits dropped to the ground dead. Exhausted by the mental strain, her grip on the remaining live ones began to slip as well and one broke out of his silent imprisonment. There was murder in his eyes when he charged the blood mage screaming, weapons out and ready to strike.

He fumbled mid-stride and nearly slammed straight down on his face by an invisible spell cast. The other three were released in that moment and rushed the mage as well, unconcerned by the fate of their fellow. The mage spread her hand in a wide arc as the bandits came closer and the air seemed to simply crystallize at her will despite the balmy evening. Two of the bandits were stopped dead in their tracks, frost creeping over their limbs and freezing them solid, but the third managed to avoid the attack and pummeled the mage.

She cried out when she went down, the two struggling in a heap briefly before a flare of fire lit up the night and the man tumbled to the side, clutching his face, which was smoking with the acrid stench of burning flesh suddenly slicing through the dull tang of salt and fish. Acting quickly, the mage got to her feet and slit the man's throat, leaving him to bleed out. The other two frozen ones she went to quickly deal with, but the first that she had weakened came after her, swords whistling through the air. She managed to duck the first barrage, the man accidentally slicing into the frozen form of one of his fellow thugs before charging after her with a blood-curdling yell of outrage. Placing two fingers to her forehead, the mage sent out a wave of pure force that sent the man sprawling backward, his head cracking wetly on the stone.

Breathing hard from the exertion, the mage quickly scooped up one of the man's weapons that had skittered away when he'd fallen and plunged it through his chest. The other she took from his limp hand and drove through the one thug still encased in rapidly defrosting ice. Before she could fully relax however, something caught her attention, a flicker in the shadows that was no simple trick of the moon. Her blood pulsed hot in her veins and she reached out, feeling the pull of the blood of the nearby body. Without pausing she urged the fleeing body to sleep and was rewarded for her efforts when she heard her target collapse some feet away. Stepping over the bodies of the bleeding and broken bandits, the blood mage went to see who it was that had been spying on her battle with the thugs.

The elf had collapsed mid-stride, her thickly braided red hair covering the half of her face that she could see. Gasping, the blood mage knelt beside the small elf woman, turning her over so that she lay on her back instead of face down in the street and quickly healed the palm that still gushed blood. She then ran glowing blue hands over the elf, making sure that she hadn't broken anything in the sleep-induced fall and shook her awake. "Kallian? Kallian! By the Maker, what are you _doing_ here?"

The elf roused slowly, rubbing her head, taking a little bit of intense concentration to be able to focus on the mage. As soon as she realized where she was however, Kallian pushed the mage away and lept to her feet, immediately drawing her daggers. "Stay away from me Ammy!" She screamed, her back to the empty alleyway and ready to flee at the first sign of magic. "By the Maker's bastard children, I never though _you_ would be a blood mage!"

For a long moment, the cloaked figure didn't move, then with deliberate slowness she reached up and pushed back her hood. Solona stared back at Kallian's wild-eyed face, a look of profound sadness on her own. "I… I have no excuses."

Kallian was surprised by the defeat she heard in the mage's voice and relaxed a bit, her shock and anger being ushered away by confusion. "What? You aren't even gonna deny it?"

"To what point and purpose?" Solona asked calmly, shrugging her narrow shoulders. "You saw this-" she gestured to the carnage behind her "-so you know. I could probably send you to sleep and give you a nightmare, or use my blood magic to attempt to wipe your memory, but I will not become the kind of maleficar that the Chantry claims all blood mages to be. I will not lay a hand on those that I call friends, and I hope you can believe me when I say that I would not be using blood magic if I could avoid doing so." She was proud when her voice did not crack, though the lump in her throat made it hard to breathe, Kallian's stare unnerving her and bringing up the acute pain of self-disappointment fresh and strong to the surface.

"Then why?" Kallian's voice was acid, her hands tightening around her dual long knives. "Why would ya do it? How am I s'posed to believe you?"

"I can't make you believe me." She replied in such a calm voice that Kallian was sure she'd misheard. "I won't _make _you believe me. What you do from here… You can run if that's what you would like. I won't stop you from turning me in; it's only right by the law of the Chantry. I would probably flee Denerim, but please, if it is your intention to alert the Templars, tell Aedan that I am deeply sorry I will not be able to hold up my end of our bargain. I owe him for so much, and if this is the only way-" The mage choked up with tears then and turned her face away from Kallian, unable to meet the elf's incredulous and accusing stare for any longer. "And I'm sorry to you too. I never meant to deceive you, but I knew that if I told anyone-"

"Maker damn you, Ammy." Kallian sighed heavily and spat on the ground, then sheathed her swords and crossed her arms over her chest, still pinning the mage with a deathly glower. "You still ain't told me _why_."

The mage sniffed and looked up at her elf companion, rubbing the tears from her eyes. "Why?"

"Yeah, why. And fer how long?" She gestured toward Solona's bloody palm. "How long you been truckin' with demons? You said them nightmares were from lyrium withdrawal, but you were lyin', weren't you?" It was more a statement than a question, her tone indicating that she didn't want to hear any more excuses or half-truths if her glare didn't already make that perfectly clear.

Solona nodded and gathered herself again, inhaling deeply to regain some sense of self-control. "The nightmares happened when the demon that plagues me tried to possess me in the Fade. I… he is the one that taught me how to use blood magic, and in return wants to possess my body so that I will become an abomination." She paused, wondering how much to reveal to Kallian and how much the elf would actually understand of what she did reveal. "I didn't become a blood mage until after Aedan and I rescued you. It was in the Brecilian when we were being pursued by Templars. They cornered us after chasing us for nearly two weeks through the forest, and they would have won. I was badly hurt, and Aedan and Keran were all but defeated when I finally realized how hopeless it all was. So I… I gave in. I used it to save us. The one that held my phylactery had Aedan by the throat, Kallian! I couldn't let him get killed, not after everything he'd done. I couldn't see him die on my behalf…"

The elf made a noise that sounded like half a groan and half a sigh, rubbing the center of her head with the palm of her hand. "Damn, so you been doin' this ever since you got back?"

Solona shook her head. "No, I didn't want any part of the demon or the demon's magic, so I tried to forget about it but…" Here the mage became timid, and it took a hearty glare on Kallian's part to get her to continue the explanation. "The demon that wants to possess me, Mouse, he had been… relentless. I found that using blood magic helps me focus my mind, that's why I've been having those nightmares less and less. And it _is_ powerful, as disgusting as it makes me feel to admit. I think that it may be the only way to beat Mouse and rid him from my dreams forever… I started practicing a few weeks after we came to Denerim, leaving the assembly building at night like tonight to practice on… the more unsavory characters that roam the streets at night."

Kallian muttered a string of curses, examining the ground at her feet, her mind working faster than her mouth. "So, you ain't tryin' to truck with demons to gain more power?"

Solona shook her head. "Never. I want nothing to do with Mouse. The only reason I'm doing this at all so that I can kill him."

"What if more Templars come fer you?" Kallian asked, her face utterly unreadable. "What if Howe's men figure out what we're up to an' come fer Aedan? What if we're outnumbered, an' there's no hope of escapin'? If I know anythin' about this shem creep that you two are after, then he won't be happy with just killin' Basher. He'll wanna make a fool of 'em first. What would you do then, Ammy?"

If Solona had any hesitation about what she would do in such a situation, then she did very well to hide it. "I wouldn't accept Mouse's help, even then. Once you become an abomination… They say that there is no hope for you. You are completely taken over by the demon and you loose all sense of your humanity. Friend and foe are no different in an abomination's eyes. I would not count on Mouse to save you or Aedan were he to be granted his wish and be able to occupy my body."

Kallian nodded, though she was chilled to hear Solona admit that abominations really were the stuff of nightmares as the Chantry painted them. It made her glad that they hadn't come across any. "You gonna tell him?"

Solona's eyes went wide and she shook her head sharply. "No. I never want Aedan to find out if I can help it. He would regret saving me if he ever found out. I couldn't do that to him. He already has so much to regret…"

There was a story there, and Kallian wanted to know what it was but Solona saw the look in her face and immediately moved to stop the oncoming flow of questions. "His secrets are not mine to tell you. If he wishes you to know, then you'll know. That's all I can say."

With a sigh, Kallian shrugged and gave up learning anything more about Basher and his pesky secrets that he kept locked up with the majority of his emotional capacity. "Fine. But in the mean time, I gotta warn ya Ammy. If I ever see yer hocus-pocus goin' out of whack, I'll summon the Templars on ya, hear?"

The mage nodded in agreement, relaxing fully for the first time since Kallian had appeared. "I do have… an idea, however. One that might help me defeat Mouse easier than relying entirely on blood magic."

"You came up with this idea _after_ you sneak outta the castle in the middle-o-the night an' nearly get killed by a bunch of thugs?" Kallian's exasperated sigh was unmistakable, the elf scratching the back of her head furiously at the apparent air-headedness of her mage companion.

"No!" Solona colored at the accusation. "I thought about it before, but I'm not good with a lock pick or with sneaking, obviously."

Kallian snorted. "I'm surprised I didn't catch ya earlier if you been doin' this for a while."

"Point is-" Solona raised her hands in a placating way. "The Wonders of Thedas has many books that may help me out. I don't dare go there during the day. Someone may recognize me, which would do no good. So far I've managed to stay out of the way of the Templars, but I wouldn't want to press my luck by wandering in like a normal customer…"

"So you want me to sneak ya in fer som illegal readin'?" Kallian raised an eyebrow, surprised at the mage. She and Aedan hadn't exactly made it a secret that they were less than enthused to help out on thieving operations. Hearing Solona come up with a plan to sneak into a book and magic store had caught the thief a little off guard.

"Well, not tonight." Her smile was weary. "I'd be afraid to get my blood on the books or carpet, and I'm tired from fighting. Blood magic… does not come without a price."

After looking Solona up and down for a quiet minuet, Kallian finally nodded. "Alright, I'll help ya out." She suddenly found herself being smothered by Solona, the woman having thrown both of her arms around Kallian's shoulders and squeezing in a hug.

"You're a true friend. I'm so grateful to have met you."

Kallian patted Solona's back awkwardly until the mage got the hint and let her go. "I'm grateful you met me too." She smiled crookedly at the slightly confused look Solona shot her, so continued. "Without you, I'd prolly be in Tevinter right 'bout now, bendin' over backwards fer some Magister an' jabbering away in their foul language."

Solona nodded solemnly, just another reason that she would be glad to be done with Mouse and have no more need of blood magic. In the end, power corrupted those who had obtained it. She couldn't stomach the thought of enslaving countless numbers of elves for her own desires, but it had become normal in Tevinter. Would the blood magic make her begin to think like a Magister? She would rather not find out. "Let's go, then. I wouldn't want to linger here any longer than I had to." Fumbling in her cloak, Solona pulled out the red strip of fabric that Kallian had given her so long ago and tied her hair back with it, trusting in the marker to keep them out of any further danger between here and the noble quarter.

* * *

><p><em>Secrets, secrets, they're no fun,<br>Unless you share with everyone!_

But, with someone already onto her little game, how long can Solona hope to keep the secret from Aedan? OH THE SUSPENSE! IT KILLS YOU, DOESN'T IT?

As always, tell me what you think of my depravity~!


	21. The Plot

"What I'm going to tell you can not leave this room."

Solona was perched on a chair near a window, her hands splayed on the smooth polished wood of the table in front of her. Kallian was near by, her back against the wall and arms folded over her chest, observing everything in the room with a dull expression. Aedan paced a few steps away from the two, though with slow deliberate strides as opposed to the fast kind that was normally attributed to caged animals. They were in his room on the top floor of the estate, the door closed tight and locked to prevent intruders as the three discussed whatever it was that Aedan had summoned them for.

It was much like the rest of the rooms in the house; open with stone walls and a vivid green rug that lay over the stone floor bearing the double laurels outlined in white and azure that was the symbol of House Cousland. He had a four-poster bed and a wall full of books that detailed strategy, history, and all other sorts of boring things that the nobility seemed to like reading and constantly kept on hand. Currently, Aedan paced in front of a large antique map of Ferelden, the parchment yellowed with age and time, though otherwise in outstanding condition. The table that Solona sat and Kallian hovered over had the remnants of their breakfast on it and a stack of papers that the teyrnling had obviously been going over before their impromptu meeting.

"I've been thinking about what the Wardens said-"

Kallian interrupted with a snort. "_Truly_ amazing that, Basher."

He shot her an icy glare, to which the elf only grinned. "-and I've come to the conclusion that they must be right."

"What do you mean?" Solona asked, eying Kallian warily, fully expecting the elf to say something rude about the late revelation on Aedan's part.

"I had thought it odd that there was no investigation on behalf of the Landsmeet or anyone else to see why Highever was suddenly ransacked and Howe given the rank of Teyrn in my father's place. At first I thought that it was simply the civil war and the darkspawn that had kept anyone from becoming curious, but now I see that it is far more than that." He let his words hang for a moment, meeting both Solona and Kallian's eyes before continuing on. "After King Maric had died, many thought that King Cailan, Maker rest his soul, was not the best choice as his successor. My father was a strong candidate for the throne in the eyes of many of the people, but my father desired no such position. What's more, Teyrn Loghain and Arl Eamon would hear none of it, so the matter was dropped and Maric's son rose to the throne. At first, I thought that the slaughter of my family had been a greedy action plotted entirely by Howe, but I have come to the conclusion that this is not entirely true.

"Cailan's death, Arl Eamon's near-fatal poisoning, and my own family's fate are not coincidence, but a plan that was simply put into action when a time of convenience managed to rear its head. Everyone who could have been a candidate to seize control of Ferelden's throne after Cailan's death is dead or came very close to it. All except Loghain. His right to the throne is tenuous at best because his daughter is the Queen, but Hero of River Dane or not, he and his daughter are still considered commoners by much of the Bannorn. He is an inspirational figure, and well-loved by the people as well as very respected for his knack for strategy, but a commoner, none the less. If Arl Eamon had not been rendered ill at an all-too convenient time and my father killed just as conveniently, Loghain would have very little chance of persuading the Landsmeet the sit him as regent.

"Howe may have been the one to suggest poisoning the Arl and attacking Highever when it was at its weakest, but ultimately I believe that it was Loghain that allowed it all to happen. I speak of treason, and it is treasonous that I speak of it." He hoped that the two women understood the predicament that he was in, and they by extension were also at risk of.

Unexpectedly, Kallian pounded on the wall behind her with an open fist and stood rigid as a board away from the wall, starling Solona and glaring at Aedan. "Shemlen politics!" She yelled, color staining her cheeks. "Yer sayin' that we can't just oust this idiotic Teyrn fer bein' a thick-headed back-side of an ass just 'cuz it's _improper_? Andraste's bloody undergarments! Are all nobles this stupid?" She paused, then curtsied and flashed Aedan her most fake polite smile. "Your Grace excluded, o' course."

He rolled his eyes at her theatrics and let the slight pass. "No, I'm saying that we can't oust him because we don't have any _proof_ other than my word against his. Howe will have burned the bodies at Highever some time ago."

"Then what do we do?" Solona asked, folding her hands in her lap. "If the Wardens are right, and this really _is_ a true Blight, then what Loghain is doing now will doom us all. He's tearing the country apart."

"I am well aware. I don't know how long he intends our countrymen to fight against one another, either. The Blight is no mere rumor anymore. Each day Denerim fills with the tales of those fleeing from the south from the darkspawn horde, and the docks seem to be filled during the day with those seeking passage out of Ferelden to where they believe that the Blight can't touch them. I am also worried about what Howe plans to do with the forces that he's managed to gather in the long string of murdered nobility. He now controls the entire north coast of Ferelden. The alliance of Highever and Amaranthine was already a large and formidable force that could intimidate the forces of Gwaren. But now he's added Denerim to his collection, and holds almost more power than the Queen." Aedan paused his pacing by the map, looking over the detailed stretch of parchment with a critical eye, tracing lines of territories with his mind. "If Loghain manages to weaken his combined forces from Gwaren, Lothering and the other southern cities by fighting with the Bannorn, that viper could very well strike at him and seize the throne. He has the potential to be the single greatest military force in all of Ferelden when this is all said and done."

"Well then we gotta get in there an' kill him, right?" Kallian asked, sounding almost too eager to sneak into the Denerim estate and try her hand at noble slaying again. "Loghain too, maybe?" Her tone was almost childishly hopeful.

Aedan was almost scared to think that the woman was serious. Her lust for noble blood was frightening at the best of times, and he made a mental note to keep in her good graces, lest he find the elf woman at his bedside one night with a bloody dagger in her hand. "I am reluctant to kill Loghain. We may need his strategies before our war with the Darkspawn is over, but if he refuses to see reason and cease this petty fighting with the banns, or the banns cannot be convinced to submit to his rule as regent for the time being, then that may be our only way. Howe, however, I see no reason to keep alive. His collective lands are stolen at best. No one will miss his presence among the Banns." That was untrue, of course. Amaranthine would probably be in a state of distress without their Arl, and he vaguely wondered if Thomas or Delilah would try taking up their father's mantle if the man was put out of his treacherous misery. He didn't think on it long however, his need to see Howe dead over riding most of his ability to be merciful. "Loghain can pay for what he's allowed to happen later, if there is a later to be had. But before the idea of bringing Howe to justice can be entertained, we will need allies. Kallian, this is where you and your band can be particularly helpful. I wish to start a rumor that I am alive."

The elf cocked her head at him, an eyebrow raised as she appraised him. "Why?"

"To gain support." Aedan reiterated simply. "I do not know how many soldiers from Highever might be still wandering Ferelden as sell-swords, or perhaps even defected to a different bann or arl after my family's fall. If there are any left, I would like for them to be able to find me and prove their loyalty once more by pledging their swords to the restoration of the Cousland name. Further more, there is a chance that if rumor begins to spread that I am alive and collecting forces, soldiers from Amaranthine may join as well. The Arling of Amaranthine has always been a vassal of Highever; it is the epitome of treason for Howe to have turned against my father. Not all of the soldiers who know about the attack will have been happy about it, and unhappy soldiers gossip like fishwives."

"Well, that's all jolly good…" Kallian drawled, her hands on her hips now. "…but Howe's been recuitin' new goons like they're goin' out of style."

"But that's here in Denerim." Aedan replied.

"What if no one comes?" Solona finally spoke up, hating to be the bearer of bad news, but seeing no way around it since neither Aedan nor Kallian had broached the subject yet.

He turned a long lingering look on the mage, his gaze reserved and voice more so. "Then today's meeting will have been for naught. We will continue intercepting Tevinter slavers when we can find their routes and work on behalf of the Wardens as we promised."

Solona nodded, but felt bad for having to be the downer in the conversation anyway. She knew that seeing Howe dead was Aedan's main goal, but the plan to have him overthrown and executed seemed a long shot.

"If I can manage to scrape some men together, however, I will visit Arl Eamon. The man is trust worthy and seems to be on the side of the Gray Wardens as well. He was the King's uncle, so has much reason to see Loghain brought to heel for what happened at Ostagar, though what plan he has to do this I am uncertain without being able to talk to him." Aedan continued as if the brief lapse in conversation had never happened. "I would see him now, but I very much doubt that I could convince even the guard at his gate that I was the rumored dead son of Teyrn Bryce without a small force gathered at my back. More noble customs, I'm afraid." Kallian snorted at the admission.

"Then we start that rumor up." The elf supplied, punching her palm with the opposite fist. "Sounds like the sooner we get you up to Grace-hood, the sooner we get Howe outta Denerim an' the sooner that the Purge come off the Alienage. Everybody wins. 'Cept Howe."

"Except Howe." Aedan agreed readily.

•º•.•º•

"So, what do you dream about?" Kallian asked suddenly, breaking the silence of the woods as thoroughly as if she'd screamed. Solona nearly jumped when she heard the elf's voice, her grip on the elfroot she was picking slipping.

"What do you mean, what do I dream about?" She asked, raising an eyebrow and resumed trying to pry the elfroot plant out of the ground. Though her voice was calm, her nerves were instantly set on edge. True to her word, Kallian had kept the secret of Solona's blood magic from Aedan and the rest of their gathered allies. All the same, she was not keen to discuss it, even if it was just her and the elf out here in the forest by themselves, collecting herbs for Solona's poultices and Kallian's more devious poisons. "Mages dream just like everyone else, only we remember better when we wake up most of the time."

"Tch, don't be coy with me." Kallian was undeterred by Solona's vague reply. She navigated her way around a bush, checking underneath the boughs before giving up on that area and moving closer to where her mage companion was carefully digging out the roots of her plant. "Mages sleep different, an' you ain't exactly quiet when you wake up from yer nightmares. What do you dream about that scares ya so often? Don't think I didn't hear ya last night. When Basher ain't there to shush you, you carry on a bit."

Solona heaved a heavy sigh and pulled the elfroot out of the ground, stashing it in the basket that hung from her arm. "I'm sorry that I woke you."

Kallian shrugged. "Don't matter. But you ain't answerin' my question. It's the demon, right? Rat, or Mouse or whatever? Wot's he do?"

The mage bit her lip, meeting Kallian's curious gaze for a long moment. The elf rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. "Come on, Ammy. I'm already keepin' one secret fer you. You think that I'm gonna be blabbin' yer dreams?"

"That is… an excellent point…" For all her quirks, Kallian _had_ proven to be extremely reliable in this, and Solona knew that her life hung entirely by the elf's nimble fingers. She was a better friend than any blood mage deserved, by Solona's estimation. "It's not Mouse specifically that does the majority of the tormenting…" She admitted, her cheeks coloring slightly when she thought of her most recent dream before things had started getting ugly. "I dream of you sometimes now."

"Of me?" Kallian cocked her head to the side.

Solona nodded. "Yes, ever since you found out about my blood magic. You appear before me, call me a traitor, and bring with you many Templars. I am forced to fight for my life, even in my dreams." She shrugged, trying for nonchalance.

"B-but I wouldn't!" Kallian sputtered, seeming shocked. "You know I wouldn't!"

"I know." The mage shot her elf friend with a small smile, going back to the task of collecting herbs now. "I told you, the demon will do anything to try and win me over to his side. The dreams seem so real, but I know that in the Fade it is all smoke and illusion. I know that you would never betray me as Mouse portrays it. Under everything, I know you are a truly noble person."

Kallian snorted, scratching the back of her head absently. "Yer gonna make my ears turn red Ammy. No sense in accusin' a common thief of being noble, you'll make em' twitchy." Solona giggled at that, but didn't comment further, the two falling into amiable silence for a little while. "But what about before? Ye can't always be dreamin' of me."

Solona baulked momentarily, and Kallian noticed, watching the mage like a hawk. "You… probably wouldn't want to know." She replied, though judging by the intense stare she was on the receiving end of, Kallian wouldn't be happy with simply trying to keep some secrets to herself. "Mostly, Mouse simply pits me against insurmountable odds but… He has acquired control over a Desire demon and it… often takes Aedan's form…"

"I knew it." Solona looked up sharply to see Kallian eyeing her with something that was close to boredom, the elf's arms across her chest. "You love 'em, don't you?"

The mage's face went pure scarlet. "No! I don't, I couldn't-"

Kallian laughed. "You do! Awe, Ammy, you couldn't keep a secret if yer life depended on it. Why ain't you told 'em? He pretends that he don't got any emotions, I know, but yer the only one that he ever opens up to. Ya got a shot, Ammy."

"No, I don't." Solona's cheeks were still dusted with red as she shook her head slowly, her tone sobering Kallian's flippant attitude.

"But why-?"

"He is nobility!" She winced from the truth even though she voiced it. "The Chantry forbids mages to marry and have normal lives. If he were to reclaim his inheritance, then truly, I would have no chance. Love… love is for those that aren't cursed. It is not for mages who have become maleficarum."

"This is stupid." Disgust lay heavily coated on Kallian's words, the elf shaking her head. "Yer gonna listen to a bunch of women in skirts? Since _when_ have you stopped to listen to the Chantry? Yer free, ain't you? Yer _alive_. If they had it their way, you'd be strung a mile high to set an example."

"I am alive, and with my freedom, I'll continue to remain by his side, even if it's only as a friend." Solona kept her eyes on the ground, not looking up to see the angry glare being shot at her by Kallian. "Besides, his heart is hurting. I couldn't ask Aedan to try and love me, even if I weren't a mage. It wouldn't be fair to try and do that to him, not when I owe him so much."

Kallian rolled her eyes. "You've got too many secrets." She uncrossed her arms, puffing her bangs out of her face with a short breath. "So, yer content to be a spinster, is that it?"

"If it means that I can continue to be friends with you all, of course." Solona chuckled, prying up a deathroot plant.

"Mages are strange." Kallian said with a heavy sigh, and let the matter drop.

* * *

><p>Addressing multiple problems here in this chapter. First, the matter of succession with Aedan, which was all explained to what I hope is a satisfactory level for you all, my lovely readers. Secondly is Solona's Mage-Complex, another lovely gift given to her by the Chantry. Like Anders, she is convinced that falling in love is a game best left to the Circle and has no chance with somebody that has a title. And realistically, this is true. But can love surpass even this obstacle? Only time will tell! Also, college starts back up in a week an a half, so the updates will have to drop to once a week. Which would you rather see? Mondays, or Fridays?<p> 


	22. Plagued by Pride

"_You have been sneaky, my pet."_

_Though his words were purring and sickly sweet, Solona could tell that Mouse was less than pleased with her recent activities. The Wonders of Thedas had turned out to have a book on demon lore, and she'd found the tome to be far more helpful than she'd ever expected it to be. But despite her attempts to keep the midnight cram sessions secret, Mouse somehow seemed to know about everything she did these days, and trying to fortify herself against his advances was no exception._

"_Not sneaky enough." She replied, tipping up her chin and schooling her thoughts. Learning to control the minds of others had given her a surprising amount of resistance against mental suggestion in the Fade. It had become harder and harder for the Desire demon to trip her up, and even Mouse was beginning to struggle to make the illusions last for more than a few seconds. To say he was displeased was an understatement. "Why don't you give up on this insane quest of yours, Mouse? I am all but beyond your reach now. Plague my sleep no more."_

"_And watch you slip through my fingers?" Mouse looked stricken, his tone incredulous. "My pet, you have so much raw potential locked away in your fleshy mortal body. Backed by a demon, your power could be devastating! With it, I would rule your mortal realm and laugh as the Spirits watch me in envy! No, my pet, it is no folly that I seek to take what I have worked so hard to try and obtain." He sounded hungry when he spoke of her body like this, the look he was giving her making her shiver. "But you've become too powerful for simple illusions to sway you…" Mouse began advancing on her, and Solona retreated backward for his every step forward, drawing her staff and holding it defensively in front of her._

"_No, I will take your body by force and make it mine before you can grow any stronger." The illusion of the handsome young mage began to slip now, his body wavering, then glowing and growing to reveal the huge purple behemoth that the Pride demon truly was. A giggle came from somewhere to Solona's right, and she turned to see the Desire demon floating over a mound of twisted rock, a grin curving her devilish purple features._

_The teasing placating Mouse was gone now, the horned flat-faced demon that advanced on her now held no mercy in his beady black little eyes. "You will bow before me!" He thundered, body glowing with power as the very Fade seemed to draw to him and imbue him with strength._

_For the first time, Solona began to panic._

•º•.•º•

She was startled awake by a scream. Kallian had never been much of a light sleeper, and ever since her time in prison she had taken to sleeping with a knife under her pillow. The elf had it in her hand now, ready to lash out at anything nearby, fully awake. Her room however was completely empty. Afraid that they had come under attack, she got out of bed quickly and grabbed her dual long knives. Armed, Kallian went to the door and peeked out cautiously. There were no soldiers, nor fire or distressed people running around like the world was ending. Confused, she started to wander the halls in search of the noise and heard it again, this time coming from Solona's room.

Her first thought was that it must have been another nightmare, and so went in without bothering to knock. When she entered the room it was to see the mage writhing in her bed, magic outlining her form in a faint glow and silently crying out. Immediately Kallian rushed to her side, dropping her swords and looking her over fearfully, unsure what to do. "Ammy!" She called and reached out to shake her awake. She drew back sharply with a cry though, the magic cloaking Solona sparking at her. "Maker's breath Ammy!"

Kallian got to her feet and ran out of the room, navigating the halls until she came to the stairs and took them three at a time. Once she was on the top floor, she went over to Aedan's room and pounded on the door as hard as she could. "Aedan! Wake up and get your ass out here!" She yelled through the door. On the other side she could hear Keran barking and soon enough it swung open, revealing a disheveled Aedan wearing only a set of loose pants.

"Kallian?" His voice was rough and groggy, hair tousled and eyes tired. "Blessed Andraste… what are you doing up here? It's the middle of the night."

"It's Ammy." Kallian breathed with her heart racing in her chest, but Aedan seemed unaffected by the news. "She's havin' another nightmare. It's real bad! She's glowin' an' I couldn't wake her up!"

Aedan did react to that, joining Kallian out in the hall, his sleepy state replaced by one of action and worry. "That can't mean anything good. Come on."

The two went back down the stairs and into Solona's room to find the mage as she was before, struggling with whatever Fade dream she was having.

"I've never seen her like this before." Aedan muttered, walking toward her and standing near by, but didn't get too close.

"What do we do?" Kallian asked, sounding a little desperate. "She didn't wake up when I called her earlier, an' I couldn't touch her."

"I know very little about magic." He confessed and knelt next to the bed. The obvious answer would be to call on the Templars and have them sort it out, but he discarded the thought almost immediately. They would probably kill her the moment they laid eyes on her. "I wish I knew what was going on…"

Kallian bit her lip, her thoughts racing to find some kind of answer and finally took a knife from her belt and found Solona's hand without touching her, praying silently to the Maker that the mage would forgive her later if this worked.

"What are you doing?" Aedan asked, eyeing Kallian and the knife warily.

"Tryin' to help." Kallian replied with a vague shrug, but did not meet Aedan's eyes. "Just… be ready fer whatever happens next…" Without waiting for him to react to her warning, Kallian drew the dagger across Solona's palm, red blood immediately springing forward at the knife's contact.

The effect was immediate, the harsh blue that Solona had been surrounded by suddenly turning a fierce red. Aedan immediately recoiled at the change, but Kallian reached out swiftly and grabbed his arm, forcing him to hold his ground.

•º•.•º•

"_Have you had enough yet mage?" Mouse screamed, looming over Solona's crumpled body as she struggled to stand. "Will you give up yet?"_

"_You will have to kill me." She spat with all the vehemence she could muster, unsteadily getting to her feet. With an enraged cry, Mouse made to pummel her and knocked the mage off her feet, sending her flying until she collided painfully with the base of a statue. Her power was waning and nothing she did seemed capable of bringing Mouse down. He was incredibly powerful, and all of her spells had only managed to anger him. He was leaking the demonic Fade equivalent of blood from a nasty burn she had inflicted on his leg, and she'd managed to break off a couple of his horns, but it was nothing fatal. She on the other hand was singed and covered in bruises and bleeding wounds. For a time it had seemed that they were evenly matched with her blood magic, but she was simply running out of energy and power. It took all of her strength just to stand again to face Mouse, and she knew that it was hopeless. The only way out was to get Mouse to accidentally kill her and render her Tranquil. Then he couldn't possess her body and become a threat to the mortal world._

"_If I wanted to kill you…" The demon growled, reaching down and plucking up the mage as if she were a ragdoll, squeezing her until it was hard to breathe, "…then I would have done so already. Do not think you can escape me by dying!"_

_Solona tried to scream as Mouse crushed her, but she couldn't draw the breath to make a noise, silently suffering as the demon increased the pressure. Suddenly, the Pride demon cried out and attempted to throw her away, but was unable. Red engulfed them both and they simultaneously felt as if they had been struck by a bolt of lightning._

"_NO!" Mouse screamed, his whole body trembling with the will of move. "GET OUT OF MY MIND, MORTAL! You will NOT take this knowledge from me!"_

_She wasn't entirely sure what he was talking about, but she could feel the pull of magic between them and somehow knew that if she focused her will and __**tugged**__ that the two lives she felt beating on the other side of the Fade would come to her. So, that's precisely what she did._

_Pain tore through her when the spell activated, an instantaneous flash of heat and power ripping through her body. Mouse seemed to feel it too and finally managed to throw the mage down on the ground, retreating a couple of steps. Light burst around them and cool Fade magic washed over Solona. When she looked up, it was to see Aedan and Kallian standing there, both looking confused and frightened and in their nightwear._

"_Imagine yourselves armed and in armor!" She screeched at the two, the words leaping forward without conscious thought. Both of them looked at her like she'd grown a second head. "DO IT!" Startled into action, Solona could see as both concentrated on trying to imagine themselves better armed._

"_You've brought friends?" Mouse grumbled, seemingly unimpressed by the feat, though far more annoyed than before. "I will end them!"_

"_No!" Summoning what was left of her flagging spirit, Solona cast a spell of ice. It traveled along the ground and Mouse stumbled, finding his lower body suddenly frozen in place and roared in frustration, the frost creeping up the rest of his body slowly as the magic clung to him._

"_What is this thing?" Aedan called, looking up at the Pride demon. Instantly, his sword and shield materialized, brought forth by his battle instincts when he realized that they were in danger. He looked surprised to suddenly have his weapons appear, and a few seconds later his armor began to materialize, crawling over his body like mist before solidifying._

"_A demon of Pride!" Solona shouted back, drawing herself to her feet and breathing hard for the effort. "Mouse."_

"_**This**__ is __**Mouse**__?" Kallian was obviously bewildered, looking up at the demon as it struggled to free itself. Her daggers wavered into being, flickering uncertainly before solidifying. "I'd hate to see a __**rat**__."_

"_Less talking, more slaying!" To emphasize her point, Solona drew up another ice spell, more frost creeping over the rest of Mouse's body. Galvanized, both Aedan and Kallian sprung to the attack, Aedan going forward to face off with the huge beast and Kallian moving around back to stab into the fleshier bits of the demon._

"_You fools!" Mouse roared, breaking one leg free of the ice around his foot and stomping down. "You will not defeat me!" He brought a massive armored hand down with the intention of crushing Aedan flat. He moved too slowly burdened by the ice and frost to catch Aedan off guard though, and only managed a glancing blow against the warrior's shield. Aedan took the opening to sink his blade into the creature's forearm, and Mouse screamed at the pain, pulling his arm back and tearing his other leg free as Kallian slashed at his legs, the demon's blood spraying out when she landed a particularly fearsome hit. He turned to face the elf and get rid of the nuisance, and was met with a face full of acid. Bellowing in rage, he clawed at his face to try and get rid of the burning sensation and was hit with a bolt of lightning that sent sparks racing across his hide._

_Angry that he was being assaulted on every side, he began to call magic to him and let it all out in a fiery burst. The elf and the warrior fell back and Mouse turned on the shield bearing one, lowered himself and charged. The distinct sound of crunching metal and a cry of pain were his reward when the warrior fell, but he didn't get to enjoy the mortal's pain for very long. A dagger sank into his side and he kicked the elf that had put it there, ripping the dagger out of his skin in a jagged line as the elf stubbornly clung to her weapon. The damage had been done, however, the substance the elf had applied to her weapon seeping into his skin and he could feel as his magic drained away from him. Spitting with fury, he wheeled around and bent down to grab the elf that had inflicted the wound on him. He managed to grab her around the waist, and she kicked and screamed when she was lifted into the air. A blade sunk hilt-deep into his hand, but he was too enraged to care. With both hands, Mouse began to squeeze the life out of her, enjoying quite thoroughly her strangled cries and feeling the bones begin to pop and snap under the pressure._

"_Put her down!" Solona drew herself up, summoning the power of her blood from any number of wounds that stained her clothes and summoned an arc of lightning that shot across the empty space between her and the demon. Mouse roared when it hit him, but didn't set Kallian down. A second later the demon seemed to arch backward with a startled cry of pain, dropping the elf in a crumpled heap. Aedan was just behind the beast and had sunk his blade into the creature's back but it was ripped from his hands when Mouse swatted him away with a huge armored hand, sending the warrior skidding to the dirt some feet away._

_Kallian didn't move from her place on the ground, struggling to breathe and remain conscious, pain stabbing at her with every breath she drew. Solona drew what power she could into healing the elf, able to ease her breathing but not expend enough healing magic to ease her suffering completely. Mouse paid no attention to the elf or the mage, his gaze locked instead on Aedan who had managed to get himself to his feet. The sword he had used to stab Mouse was lodged in the demon's side, the black essence of the Fade beast pouring out around the metal, but the demon didn't seem to care. It wanted these pesky mortals out of his way so that he could continue torturing the mage into submission._

"_You were fools to interfere!" Mouse boomed, swiping at Aedan with one huge hand, the warrior managing to dance backward out of the way by the skin of his teeth. "When I possess her body, you two will be the first that I devour!" The demon lunged forward and made as if to crush Aedan, but he rolled out of the way just in time, coming up on Mouse's side and ripping out his sword from the demon's side. Mouse howled and whirled on him, crushing Aedan's shield inward when the warrior instinctively raised it to defend himself. Bone cracked and metal screeched, and he was thrown off his feet by the impact, hitting the ground hard._

"_Aedan!" Solona ran to where the warrior had fallen, skidding to her knees in the dirt at his side. He gasped painfully when he tried to sit up, his mangled shield arm dragging limply. "No, no, this can't happen! You two have to get out of here."_

_Mouse laughed at that. "They couldn't even if they tried!" He declared, stomping over toward them with slow heavy steps, a ghastly grin on his face. "Their souls will be mine to devour. They will strengthen me for my passing into the mortal world."_

_She narrowed her eyes at the demon, then took Aedan's sword from his hand. "I'll never let that happen!" She yelled up at the huge demon._

"_What are you doing?" Aedan reached to take his sword back, but Solona got to her feet and backed away from him. Kallian ran up behind her, but paused just an arm's length away. Even Mouse had stopped advancing._

"_If I kill myself," She said, voice trembling, but hands steady as she raised the blade to her neck with both hands, "then I will become Tranquil outside of the Fade. Mouse will never be able to possess me then, or any other demon. I'll no longer be a threat to anybody."_

"_Are you stupid?" Quick as a flash and despite her wounds, Kallian diarmed Solona with a move that was to quick for her eye to follow, and driven the weapon point first into the ground where it wobbled with a metallic ring. Breathing heavily from the exertion, she turned a simmering glare on the mage. "We ain't going to give up on you easy as that!"_

"_No, we can't win! He's too strong." Her heart sank when she saw the resolve in Kallian's eyes and looked over to see Mouse laughing at her predicament. It seemed so inevitable now. She had no idea what would happen to Kallian and Aedan if they were killed in the Fade. Mages became Tranquil, but what happened to normal people?_

"_No, we have to. There's no other choice, right?" With a pained groan, Aedan managed to get off his shield, the twisted hunk of blood-splattered metal shimmering and disappearing entirely once it had been abandoned. Slowly he managed to get to his feet, his left arm hanging limply by his side, blood dripping off his armor and onto the parched ground. "He'll keep us here whether or not you die. So you might as well stick around and help us to kill this thing."_

"_You'll never be able to defeat me, not as you are now." Mouse said with a laugh, looking over the three with something that amounted to contempt. "You, who couldn't even save your parents? You, who is too weak to reclaim your honor?"_

"_Shut up." Aedan hissed, gripping his sword hard with his good hand and yanking it out of the dirt with a considerable amount of effort. "You don't know anything."_

"_Don't I?" The Pride demon spread his hands, his voice returning to a tone that Solona was dreadfully familiar with. "Don't you burn with the knowledge that your family's killer still roams your mortal plain? I could give you the power to change that. Not just the man who slaughtered your family, but all of his conspirators. Those too greedy or cowardly to step forward and stop him when they knew."_

_Aedan seemed to stagger under a physical weight, his eyes gone blurry. "Get… out of my… head!" He ground out through clenched teeth. He could see in his mind clearly as he charged into Howe's stronghold with a bloody sword in hand and single-handedly cut a swath of blood against every man that stood against him. Howe kneeled at his feet, begged for forgiveness before his head rolled across the room, but the blood didn't end there. His bitterness for Howe's treachery wouldn't be sated simply by his death. The demon was right, he __**wouldn't**__ be happy until everyone that had conspired against his family felt justice at the end of his blade. Righteous fury burned through him with that thought, and suddenly the demon's temptation didn't seem so bad. What would he sacrifice for a chance to see his revenge fulfilled?_

"_Aedan, he won't make these things happen for you!" Solona said, breaking through the haze of bloodlust partially, her voice an anchor in the writhing swell of his need for vengeance._

"_What does the mage know?" Mouse asked, his voice containing a hint of humor. "She can not know what I can do. But you can see it, can't you? What power I can bestow, what things you can accomplish. Just hand over the mage, and all of it could be yours."_

"_No way!" Kallian stepped forward so that she stood defensively in front of Solona, rebellion painted all over her face. "Basher, you can't let this thing have Ammy. Whatever he's promisin' ain't worth it!"_

"_But he must pay…" He moved like a puppet on strings, every word seemingly wrenched from his throat against his will. Aedan turned his back on Mouse and lifted his sword to attack, his body trembling with the effort as the last shreds of his mustered willpower fought the loosing battle against the strong temptation._

"_No!" Solona baulked visibly when she realized that Mouse had won over Aedan's consciousness, the vision that the demon had provided too strong for his untrained mind to resist. With fury in her eyes, she whirled on Mouse, her hands moving to shape a spell. "You will not take my friends from me!" The gathered magic burst from her, a sudden storm of ice whipping up, the freezing wind carrying pellets of snow biting at them in the sudden storm. Kallian stumbled forward, nearly tripped by the sudden gust of wind, and Aedan was knocked to the ground by it, landing straight on his injured arm with a pained gasp._

_The ice clung to Mouse, the demon the center of the vortex as the magically produced storm flared to life around him, howling like a banshee. The ice coated his purple hide, and his movement to get out of the storm was severely impeded by the frost. In a matter of seconds, he had been covered entirely and stood frozen in the storm, his mouth open in a pained howl. Solona's face paled visibly with the effort it took to sustain the spell, and just as quickly as it started, the storm faded, blowing itself out without her magic there to guide and shape it._

"_We need to finish him now." She panted, leaning heavily against her staff for support as her legs trembled with the effort of standing._

_Kallian nodded silently, though didn't move for a few seconds, her eyes wide as she contemplated trying to bring the monster down. Mouse twitched, some of the ice encasing his armor falling to the ground, and Kallian seemed goaded into action by the knowledge that what advantage they did have was momentary at best. Her hesitation was costing them precious seconds. She withdrew a vial of poison and coated her blade with practiced swiftness, discarding the used vial on the ground and then without pause rushed the demon, glancing blows on the icy hide and leaving a string of burning acid in her wake. Solona did her best to provide support fire, but stopped when a hand suddenly grabbed her shoulder. She whirled to see that Aedan was on his feet, her heart sinking and she readied to knock him out again._

"_Heal me." His eyes were free of the clouded look that had come with the demonic possession, his voice his own. "Just my arm a bit. I'll kill the bastard for getting in my head."_

_Solona simply nodded, expending the last bit of her energy to mend the bone in his arm, though it was a patch job at best. She collapsed then, sinking to her knees. "I'm counting on you."_

_Mouse managed to wrench his arm out of its icy encasement. The rest of his body followed shortly, the ice shattering and seeming to explode off of him with a burst of power that rippled over his form. "You are already beaten!" He turned to reach down and grab Kallian, but the elf expertly dodged him, her dual daggers flashing out and catching Mouse in the back of the leg, severing tendons. With an unearthly scream, Mouse went down on one knee, blood-like mist gushing out of the wound. He started to curse and try and lift himself up despite the crippled leg, but when he looked up it was to see Aedan charging him at full-tilt._

_The warrior took a running leap, thrusting his sword forward just as he hit the solid mass of Mouse's armored chest. The demon tumbled backward, surprised by the sudden attack and lifted his huge clawed hands to rip Aedan and his sword away before the warrior could kill him. Mouse was too slow to react, the sword slicing at his fingers when he went for the grab, and Aedan brought the sword down with both hands into the center of the demon's short neck and with a ferocious cry drew the blade sideways, nearly fully decapitating the monster. The corpse twitched and writhed as life bled suddenly out of the demon, then went still._

_Aedan stood on the uncertain plain of Mouse's chest, covered in the rancid black goo of the demon's blood and ripped his sword out of the creatue's body, winced as every movement caused him pain. He didn't even have the chance to try and make his way down when suddenly his body began glowing, the Fade reshaping and twisting around the three now that the demon holding this particular illusion together was dead. "What's going on?" Nobody answered, for everything was lost in a rush of heat and light._

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> So, I bet you all just _loved _reading a chapter almost entirely in italics. Probably about as much as I liked writing it all that way 8'D I really actually don't have very much to say about this chapter. But, I think this will suffice: CLIFF HANGER! TROLOLOLOLOL


	23. Truth and Lies

He woke with a start, gasping for breath and clutching at his arm. There was no pain, for it seemed that wounds accumulated in the Fade didn't transfer over to the waking plane. The realization had him disoriented, so it took a handful of seconds to notice that everything in the room was bathed in soft crimson light. Aedan looked up to see Kallian stirring from where she'd collapsed, groaning with a hand on her head like she had a headache. On the bed above them, Solona still appeared to be asleep, but that wasn't what had Aedan on his feet and reaching for his sword, despite the fact that he'd come into the room without one.

Blood was suspended in the air above the mage, the red liquid moving slowly like plants underwater, swaying back and forth under the pressure of invisible waves. Kallian stood, speechless as she watched the spectacle, entirely unsure what was going to happen next. The magic seemed to react to their confusion, the soft crimson glow suddenly becoming a violent red and both Kallian and Aedan felt as something pulled at them. Kallian, weaker than the warrior very nearly collapsed as her energy was drained from her, her limbs shaking and suddenly becoming incredibly lethargic. Aedan held her steady, the tugging sensation increasing as his vitality drained away.

The magic quieted as suddenly as it had gone berserk, the glow dimming and the blood simply seemed to disappear, fading in a wisp of magic. Solona woke immediately afterwards, sitting up with a look of panic on her face, her breath coming quickly and clutching at the sheets twisted around her body. With the slowness of someone waking from a long sleep, she looked over at Aedan and Kallian, her face paling visibly. "You were really there…"

"You're a blood mage." It wasn't a question, it was an accusation. The light from Solona's magic faded from the room, leaving them in the darkness, but there was no mistaking the livid expression Aedan bore.

If it were possible, Solona's face would have gone even paler. As it was, she swayed unsteadily. Despite having absorbed power from Aedan and Kallian's blood, she was still weak from her battle in the Fade against Mouse.

"Now hold on Basher-" Kallian stepped forward to intercept anything that Aedan might do to the mage, but he instantly turned his ire on the elf, in no mood to hear excuses.

"Don't call me that!" He allowed his glare to cow Kallian into submission; the elf finding that any retort she had planned was terribly out of place when compared to the anger that had suddenly gripped the warrior, and for once she was silent. Once that was taken care of, he settled his roiling glare on Solona, the mage looking small and frightened where she sat on the bed. "That's what this has all been about? Your nightmares, that… that _demon_ because of blood magic?"

"I never wanted this!" Solona cried out desperately, trying in vain to make him see the truth of it. She knew that he would react this way, knew that there were only a handful of outcomes once he found out. And she was too weak to make any sort of escape attempt. Just thinking of trying to stand made her head swim. "Not the blood magic, not Mouse, nothing!"

"You honestly think I'll believe that?" Aedan scoffed, spreading his hands. "The Templars were right. All apostates become blood mages in the end. How long has it been Solona? How long have you been manipulating my mind, or Kallian's?"

"I wouldn't!" Her heart was breaking at the accusations lobbied at her. "I couldn't, not to you or Kallian, or anyone-" She felt her head spinning with exhaustion, and the next words that Aedan yelled at her were lost in the dull roar that filled her head. All at once, the world went dark and she knew no more.

•º•.•º•

She found him easily enough, for the warrior hadn't exactly made himself scarce, and if he _really_ wanted to keep a master of lock picks out of his room, then he would have made it harder to unlock. When Kallian walked into his room, Aedan was standing with his forearm propped against the mantle of the unlit fireplace, staring at the blackened stone in moody silence.

He made no sign that he heard her forced entry, so she closed the door behind her with an audible click, then rested her back against the wall near the door. Still he didn't turn to look and see whom it was, so Kallian sighed heavily and folded her arms across her chest. "You're an idiot."

Aedan tensed visibly at the jab, but still made no move to turn and face her. "Insults are not what I need from you right now Kallian." His voice was low and hard, projecting a nearly physical aura that clearly read '_go away,'_ but Kallian wasn't intimidated like she had been before. She'd recovered from their trip to the Fade and the draining magic somewhat, and now that she had everything sorted again her fiery personality was back in full swing. He was going to answer for throwing Solona in the dungeons, justified or not.

Instead of retreating she frowned, her brows drawing together and straightening a little in her relaxed pose propped up against the wall. "She did it to save us, y'know. To save _you_. We woulda been dead if she hadn't used blood magic to turn the tides."

"And how am I _supposed_ to react to this?" His anger finally got the better of him, and Aedan turned on Kallian quickly. He looked angry and hurt, the two emotions warring strongly to gain control of his facial expression with neither quite able to dominate. His hands fisted and the knuckles turned white, meeting Kallian's bored gaze for only a handful of seconds before averting to the floor as he collected himself once more. When next Aedan spoke it with was with a more controlled tone, though tinged still with heartache. "I've been harboring a blood mage this entire time… I should have seen the signs. I _knew_ that she'd helped that friend of hers escape from the Circle, I should have been more suspicious, but I took her words at face value. We've fought blood mages. You and I both know how dangerous and unpredictable that power can be…" He made to turn away from Kallian, raising a helpless hand in a gesture of defeat. "The Chantry-"

"The _Chantry_?" Kallian hissed in disbelief, an eyebrow rising in stark curiosity. She snorted, drawing away from the wall and let her hands rest on her hips, Aedan looking at her over his shoulder with a wary glare. "Since when'd you develop a sense of morals that the _Chantry_ would approve of? You're planin' the murder of a Teyrn, an' you've been _defyin'_ the Chantry ever since you met Solona. As I've heard it told, you got the blood of several Templars on your hands, so don't pretend that you weren't a willin' participant." He looked like he wanted to argue still, so she decided that it was time to lay down the gloves. If he wanted to be stubborn, then she could be stubborn too. "She's been a blood mage since you two went an' faced the Templars in the Brecilian."

He looked truly shocked to hear that bit of information, going completely still save for the widening of his eyes. "What?"

Kallian laughed humorlessly, shaking her head. "Yeah. She figured that she was gonna die, that you'd die for her along the way, so she used blood magic to get rid of those Templars. She hated it though, said she never wanted to have to use it again, an' since she was free, didn't figure she'd have to. Then that thrice-damned demon came along an' everythin' went pear-shaped."

He stiffened at the reminder, the battle with the fell Fade beast still freshly raw in his mind since waking up from the blood-magic induced sleep a little more than half an hour ago. He had always wondered what it was Solona had seen in her dreams when she would wake screaming, and now he knew. At least the damned thing was dead.

"Point is, she was afraid of loosin' to him an' figured that blood magic was her only way out. She didn't want to hurt any of us, so it was defeat the demon or leave. She picked winnin' over runnin' an' so started practicin' in earnest. I caught her one night. When I saw what she was doin', I was gonna run for it an' tell somebody. You first, maybe the Templars if I came across 'em. She saw me though, an' could have killed me with a thought." Kallian tapped her temple, a solemn look on her face. "But she didn't. She looked like she wanted to crawl away an' never be seen again. She told me that if I was planin' to turn her in, she wouldn't stop me. That if I was scared an' wanted to run, she wouldn't chase me. I could've got away, but I wanted to know why she'd do it. Why she'd take to performin' demon magic. After what she felt, an' knowing what the Tevinters did with blood magic, I had to know why anybody would want to go that way.

"Then she told me about her dreams. How Mouse an' his crony would try an' use her desire for freedom an' life to corrupt her and take over her body. She wanted to be free of that, an' knew that blood magic was the only way to make her strong enough to take 'em both on and win. If that were the only way to stop the dreams, then she'd do it." Kallian paused, her expression going soft in place of the heavy glare that she'd been pinning to the side of Aedan's face as he listened to her go on. "She loves you."

The quiet confession seemed to jolt Aedan into having emotions again, and his brow furrowed when he dared to meet Kallian's eyes. "She can't…"

"Oh, she can, an' she does." Kallian shrugged, watching Aedan carefully as the man tried to sort out his own feelings upon hearing that the mage he had locked away was utterly enamored with him. "In fact, I'd say she's completely around the bend for you. But she knows that there's nothin' to be had. After all, you're noble born, not some common Templar that she can seduce an' pretend to love." He looked back down at the floor, fists clenching silently. Kallian took a step forward and made a helpless gesture. "The Desire demon knew. It took your form an' promised that the two of you could be together if she would let Mouse inhabit her body. The demon promised that not even the Chantry or any law would be able to separate you with the power that the demons could give her. Mouse had you dancin' fer him in five seconds, an' you turned on her easy, but she held out for you. She didn't want those empty promises. All she wanted was to stay by your side an' protect you, even if that meant that you could never be more than friends. But now, she can't even have that." Kallian was satisfied to see that Aedan was looking quite miserable now, but couldn't resist adding another nail to the coffin.

Turning, she opened the door and stood with one foot on the threshold, ready to leave. "As you said, you've been harborin' a blood mage this whole time…" She gave him a second to absorb the words, then looked over her shoulder at him, noting that his gaze was still unwaveringly focused on the floor, dark brown hair falling into his eyes. "Solona hasn't changed, Aedan. You just know all her secrets now." With her final blow delivered, Kallian left the room and closed the door behind her, leaving Aedan alone with his sullen thoughts.

•º•.•º•

Solona wasn't sure how long she'd been asleep for, but it appeared that she had been unconscious long enough to be transported to a dungeon. At first she wasn't sure where she was, the dark stone unfamiliar to her, but decided that she was either in the cells in the Highever estate or had been taken somewhere else as equally as damning. There were bars over the window above her head, the tiny space letting in enough light so that it wasn't completely dark in her cell. Sitting up on her cot, Solona put her back to the wall and folded her knees to her chest; despair welling up in her soul.

So, this was finally it, huh? The gaping hole in her heart had started causing an unrelenting ache beneath her breastbone, growing with the darkness as the minuets dragged by in the night. Just when she thought that finally, _finally_ there would be no more ties or bindings to hold her back, there was always one more thing. She cursed vehemently and swatted at the tears gathering on her cheeks. Damn that she had been born a mage. Damn Mouse for being so persistent, and damn herself for ever giving into him even just that once.

Everything was just backwards and wrong. Why was it that things only went bad when she thought that everything was settled and done with? It was stupid. Everything was stupid. She wanted to let her magic ripple out and simply blow out the dungeon's walls, but at the same time just wanted to crawl under a rock and die. The stricken look on Aedan's face when they awoke from the blood-magic induced voyage to the Fade and he realized what had happened… She nearly choked on a sob as her heart clenched in grief and she had to delve deep within herself to find a sense of calm again.

"It will go away." She whispered, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around her shins. "All wounds fade with time…" Wisdom, for all of its perks really had its downfalls sometimes. She didn't want to have to wait for this incessant ache to go away. Maybe it would be better to ask to become Tranquil when the Templars finally came for her. Then at the very least the pain in her heart would only be a distant memory, not this aching thing that consumed her. And what of Kallian? The elf had accepted her blood magic as part of her. Would she still be so trusting after the mayhem that Solona had brought her into during the life-and-death struggle against Mouse? Doing so had been a completely accident, but what else could she accidentally do? She could frighten _herself_ with that thought.

She was well and truly alone now. There was nobody here to comfort her. Nobody at the Circle would want anything to do with a confirmed blood mage, but that was assuming that most of them were even still alive. How many of her friends had died of Uldred's madness? And now the friends she had managed to make outside of the Circle were lost to her as well, in a different way though seemingly as permanent as the mass slaughter of the Circle. There was nothing for her in Ferelden. Perhaps if given the chance to flee she could head north and try and charter a ship to another country. Perhaps Antiva, or the Free Marches? That was assuming that she could or even wanted to get out of this prison, or away from the Templars when they came for her.

The screeching of a door opening on badly oiled hinges dragged her out of her sullen line of thought, looking through the barred door that lead into the hallway beyond. There was another cell directly across from her, and as far as she could tell, two more on either side of her prison. The small confining space was sectioned off from the rest to the building by a heavy metal-bound wooden door that was black in the gloom, light spilling in from a fire around the cracks and edges. Warily, Solona got to her feet and wrapped her hands loosely around the bars to try and get a look at what was going on. The heavy wood and metal door swung open, a familiar silhouette standing there clearly defined against the unsteady light of a wall torch. She stepped away from her cell door, eyes instantly beginning to tear up even as panic clenched at her heart.

Aedan left the door open behind him when he walked in, a small torch he had lit in one hand. Once he was in front of the cell that he'd put Solona in, he put the torch in a nearby slot on the wall, examining the girl through the bars. She was staring at him fearfully, hugging herself against the chill of the dungeons in only her night shift that was splattered with drops of her own blood, a wealth of sadness in her face. It tugged at his heart to see her so, but he took a deep steadying breath and steeled his resolve. "I've called the Templars." He announced in a soft voice. "They should be here fairly soon."

He had expected her to cry, or become angry at him. Maybe even lash out at him for his betrayal and bring the whole castle crumbling down with her magic. Instead, Solona simply stared at him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face. "I understand."

"Why?" Solona blinked at his question, obviously confused by it, but Aedan was just as confused as she was. There were any number of ways he could expand on the question. Why was she so calm about this? Why wasn't she spitting in rage or pleading for a second chance? Instead, he simply elaborated as best he could, making up some inane question on the fly, though he already knew the answer. "The blood magic, why?"

She felt tears prick the back of her eyes. After taking a calming deep breath, Solona unwaveringly met his gaze and lifted her chin. "The blood magic was the only thing I ever kept from you. I've never lied about anything else… My time at the Circle, my hand in Jowan's escape… I didn't lie about it."

"But why blood magic?" His voice was carefully neutral, his stance and expression even more so. "I want an honest answer."

Solona's gaze dropped to a point somewhere around Aedan's shins, collecting her thoughts silently and trying not to let the panic and sadness well up and stop her from being able to speak entirely. "To live. I didn't want to die, and I didn't want you to die on my behalf either. The Templars… they would have killed us, even if they thought that you were only a blood thrall of mine. After all you'd done for me, I couldn't let them kill you. It would… have been poor thanks to let you die when it was _me_ that they were perusing."

"Don't you enjoy the power that it gives you?" Her gaze snapped up to Aedan's face, a stricken look of disgust on her face when she met his soft stare. "It's just you and me down here. Won't you use your magic to escape?"

"Never. These powers mark me as something almost worse than an abomination. If we weren't about to have been killed, I would never have used it." She clenched her fist, remembering with a bitter taste how the consciousness of the Templars had flagged beneath the power of her spell and felt as one by one their lives were extinguished. The feeling made her skin crawl.

"But you want to live, don't you?" He asked, his voice still deceptively gentle, almost as if he were encouraging her to use her bloody magic on him. "The Templars will kill you when they come to get you. They won't let a blood mage live in the Circle tower and corrupt the others."

What did he come here for? It made her sick to even think of tapping into her magic and simply making him retreat or controlling his mind. The magic may have stained her soul, but she refused to scar it further by turning on a friend. "I can't hurt you." She whispered, trembling at the thought that Aedan would truly hand her over to the Templars. Blinking back tears, she looked up once more, wearing her heart on her sleeve. "I could never harm you, even if it were to avoid death. You are-" Her voice seized, cut off by the welling lump in her throat. She hated the thought that she couldn't resist the inevitable, but even more she hated the thought of becoming precisely what the Chantry said all blood mages were. She would not turn on him. Never on him. "You are a dear friend."

Aedan saw the struggle warring on her face, the utter defeat that seemed to settle over her slumped shoulders and downturned face. And then the damnedest thing happened.

The jangle of keys being withdrawn from a pocket could be heard rebounding off of the stone walls. With wide eyes, Solona watched as Aedan unlocked her cell and let it swing open, then he simply replaced the key on a loop of his belt. "I believe you." He whispered into the silence that had fallen, meeting Solona's unbelieving stare unflinchingly. "I'm sorry that I ever doubted you, and more sorry that I had to trick you. There are no Templars. You're free to leave if you wish. I couldn't keep you here against your will if you hated me for this. I hope that perhaps someday, you would be able to forgive me."

She wanted to cry, to hug him, or maybe punch him for leading her on like that. A part of her thought he was still leading her on, that he was only saying such things to get her to come along quietly, that he would turn on her once she submitted. "Do you?" She mumbled into the silence, standing resolutely still and making no move to cross the threshold between freedom and her cage. "Do you really believe me? Do you really trust me? Please, don't lie to spare my feelings. No more… no more lies. I don't want to lie to you anymore."

"I would trust you with my life." Aedan replied with all the honesty he could muster, and could see the profound effect it had on Solona, the woman's eyes immediately filling with tears that tracked freely down her face. She sniffled once, then became possessed with her overflowing emotions and leapt forward, wrapping her arms firmly around his chest, her small form trembling with relieved laughter. He returned her embrace without hesitation, squeezing her gently as relief washed over him. Kallian had been right. Solona really hadn't changed. The only difference was that he knew now. Knew beyond a shadow of a doubt of the shape of her character and somewhere in the depths of his imprisoned feelings there was a stirring.

He could trust.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>This drama is so worthy of highschool. Aedan knows that Solona loves him, but Solona doesn't know that Aedan knows, and Kallian knows _everything_ because she's a sneaky, sneaky rat like that… Come on, you really believe that she didn't have her stealth talent activated and was totally just standing right outside the door? Oh dear, oh my, what next? Will I ever let you hard-core shippers have your way, or will I be content to let you wallow in an unfulfilled romance setting? I shall be waiting eagerly to hear what you have to say about this latest development~!

PS The new summary is courtesy of smashbrawlguy. I held a contest over at deviantArt because it's against the rules to hold one here, and he won. So, round of applause! *claps enthusiastically*


	24. Call to Arms

The Blue Beard pub was a busy place in the evenings when the market began to close down for the night. Those that had no desire to tangle with the normal patrons of the Gnawed Noble frequented the lower class pub. It was a small squat building, built of hard stone with boarded floors and a thatched roof, and smelled of dogs and ale. Truly Ferelden, in every sense of the word. Most of the patrons here were rowdy and loud as they drank, swapping stories. A small ring had gathered around a table where a dock worker and a crate carrier were having an arm wrestling match on the table top, bets and shouts flowing in equal measure from those gathered.

A little away from the chaos was a small group of what looked like soldiers, one of the round shields propped against a chair bearing the sigil of Amaranthine, a brown bear on a brown and white checkered pattern. They were talking amongst themselves quietly; heads bowed as they drank and ate and conversed.

"How do we know the rumor's even true?" One of them asked, eyes darting nervously toward the door, the crowd, then back to the other five men seated around him. He was fairly young for a soldier and reeked of inexperience, the impeccable upkeep of his armor indicating that he was either superb at blocking incoming strikes, or else had never been in a fight.

"Little late to be askin' that." Another replied, the eldest looking one of the group. A scar on his face from a wound received very long ago marked him clearly, the jagged discoloration traveling from the side of his temple to his jaw. His skin was dark from many days marching without a helmet and the ease with which he moved in his armor spoke of many years being saddled with the equipment.

"Yeah, if you were doubting, then you shoulda stayed behind." Another added, an archer if the quiver on his back was any indication of his profession. He was clad in lighter leathers than what his fellows were wearing, though his gear was likewise stamped with the heraldry of Amaranthine.

"Even if the rumors weren't true…" A bulky man that had a two-handed great sword resting against his chair drawled, pinning the youngest member of their group with a silent glare, "…I wouldn't stay."

"Yeah." Another big man with a similarly large weapon chimed in, taking a long swig of his ale. "The Arl's been actin' shifty. I don't like it. And what's that about accusing the Couslands of selling information to the Orlesians?"

One of the gathered men sputtered on his drink, coughing when the first two-handed wielding soldier pounded him heartily on the back. "The Couslands were selling information to Orlesians?" The man asked weakly, his voice scratchy and raw from nearly choking on the ale he had been drinking. Unlike the others gathered at the table, he didn't bear the markings of Amaranthine, or any heraldry at all. He was a bit on the young side as well, though didn't have the same air of weakness and inexperience as the other younger soldier at the table.

"That's what the Arl told us when we attacked." The archer replied, leaning back slightly in his chair and shaking his head.

"Attacked?" The question came from more than one throat, the two youngest men at the table asking in tandem.

The archer nodded solemnly. "I was in the ranks when the Arl took our forces to meet up with Teyrn Cousland's and march to Ostagar to aid the king. Before we got there, we were stopped and camped for a day just outside of Highever. We were given orders to wait until the Teyrn's men departed from the castle and then attack once it was left undefended. We were told that the Teyrn had been dealing information in return for favors from Orlais, and that he needed to be stopped. So we attacked."

"That's ridiculous." The younger unmarked soldier said, glaring at the archer. "The Teyrn and the Arl fought against the Orlesians together. He of all people should have known-"

"Why'd you think we left?" The archer asked, and the eldest of the soldiers as well as the great-sword wielder that had pounded the younger one on the back all nodded in unison.

"I thought it was fishy, the plan." The eldest said, leaning his forearms on the table and sighing, shaking his head and face falling. "The Couslands of Highever have always been loyal to Ferelden and the crown, ever since King Calenhad. It never sat right with us to attack, especially in such a disgraceful way. Ransacking the castle in the middle of the night…" Silence passed over those gathered, the ones that had actually been part of the attack taking a drink of their ale as one in remembrance for the lives lost that night. "Even with a skeleton guard, those Highever bastards fought like the Maker was on their side. Rest their souls."

"But if the Teyrn's boy survived, then he'd make the Arl see reason." The archer continued, sparing all of those gathered at the table a short glance. "Or put a stop to this madness. The Bannorn can't keep fighting each other like this with the Blight in the south. Teyrn Loghain is a fine general, but even he can't defeat the Blight without the Grey Wardens and half of Ferelden's fighting forces dead."

"You said that you knew where we could talk to the Teyrn's boy, right?" The elder soldier asked, inclining his head toward the younger unmarked man.

"Yes." He replied with a nod, and finished off his pint of ale. "He stays around the docks to look for recruits. I was going to see if I could join as well when I heard you guys talking."

"Then it's a good thing we met." The archer raised his mug slightly in a mock-toast, then downed the rest of his drink, the others following suit. "Let's not stick around here any longer then. I'd like to see if this rumor is real or not."

The six soldiers filed out of the Blue Beard soon after, making their way out of the market district and toward the docks across the river that split the city in half. The young unmarked soldier leading them stopped in a dead ended alleyway and placed his hands on his hips, turning to face the others that had followed him. "Well, we're here. This is it."

"What's the meaning of this?" The eldest one asked, narrowing his eyes. "Is this some sort of joke? There's nobody here!"

The five from Amaranthine turned sharply when they heard armor and weapons clanking, watching as the alleyway behind them filled with a handful of armored soldiers. They all bore the heraldry of Highever on their shields, and stood at the entrance watching silently.

"I'm honestly sorry for the need of deception." The younger soldier said, taking a few steps forward. "Be at ease. I am Aedan Cousland, son of Teyrn Bryce Cousland, and heir to that title. I have heard the honest desire of you honorable men to join my forces. If that is still your desire, kneel, and swear your allegiance to me as you liege lord."

Gaping, the Amaranthine squad simply stared at Aedan, unable to believe that they had just been drinking with a Teyrn a few moments ago. The archer and one of the great-sword wielders did as Aedan asked, kneeling in the alleyway without reservations. The others were a little slower to follow, taking a bended knee before Aedan with the Highever soldiers at their backs.

Aedan looked over them quietly and began pacing slowly in front of the small cell of men. "Soldiers of Amaranthine, you have traveled far and abandoned your lord because you felt him to be wrong. If you swear yourself to my cause, you must pledge your blade and life to Highever. You will swear to defend the honor of your country and liege lord, and know that your life is forfeit should your foreswear this oath. Lave now if your heart would betray you, for cowardice has no home here." He eyed them all, searching for weakness in their bowed heads. "What say you?"

"I pledge my allegiance to the Teyrn of Highever." The archer spoke first, keeping his head bowed though he clapped a fist over his heart. "May I find redemption in the Maker's sight by serving you." The others made similar utterances of faith, pledging their lives and skills to Aedan unreservedly.

"Then rise, arms of Highever." Aedan said when they were done, gesturing for the five to stand. "Rise and join your brothers in arms. You are now soldiers that fight in the name of Teyrn Aedan Cousland."

•º•.•º•

"You've gathered quite a number of men." Solona said quietly, her gaze tracing the profile of Aedan's face as they walked together in the maze garden. The sweet smell of roses was inescapable here, the sound of pattering water in the fountain the only thing to disturb the quiet beside their soft footfalls. "Kallian is concerned that others in the area are catching on. Those that have taken jobs in other estates say that the other nobility are whispering."

"Let them whisper." Aedan replied with a shrug, completely unconcerned that their presence was becoming known in the city. "It will only add legitimacy to my claims when I go before Arl Eamon to try and forge an alliance on behalf of the Wardens. This way, there will be little surprise, and hopefully my sudden presence won't seem so sudden anymore. The rumors have it that the Wardens are still in the Brecilian forest, so there is time yet before Eamon will dare to officially call the Landsmeet and Howe have justice done to him."

"You have a plan then?" She asked, ignoring the touch of bitterness that had entered Aedan's voice. Since the night that they had entered the Fade and Aedan had been touched by Mouse's vile scheming, he had changed. It was very near imperceptible by most, but Solona knew, and she could clearly see how the shadows pulled over his features when he started talking about his revenge on Howe. The closer that they got to reaching his goal of bringing the traitor to his doom, the more focused Aedan became on the end result with a single-mindedness that worried her. She was concerned, but at the same time had no desire to try and persuade him to stop this quest to see the murderer of his family put to justice. Solona had agreed to help him out in this, and asking him to stop now when they had already done so much seemed like a waste of time and effort.

"Yes. Before Eamon calls the Landsmeet, I will ride to Redcliffe. I do not know if the Wardens would have told him that there are allies in Denerim to back them, but hopefully he will believe us." Aedan looked up as their passing startled a bird out of the bushes, the creature taking flight overhead with a loud flapping of wings. "Eamon will need allies against Loghain, and I will need someone to campaign with me to restore my rights as Teyrn and take Howe down for good. When I've gathered enough men to impress the Arl, we'll go."

"What of the elves?" Solona asked, letting her gaze drop to watch the ground in front of her as they walked through the maze, keeping track of what direction they were going in.

"If some of them wish to come with me to try their luck in Redcliffe, then they are by all means welcome to come. The rest… I'd imagine that they would remain here like they are now. Kallian will probably want to stay as well, so I'll leave her in charge of things." Truth be told, he wasn't sure if Kallian would actually want to stay behind or not, but he was sure that he could convince her to stay back. The elves really respected her as a leader of their people, and he'd seen first hand how she was the final authority on any disputes or questions offered by the elves he was harboring. She was needed here, whether she wanted to be or not.

Solona nodded silently, knowing his reasons for wanting to have the elf left behind without him having to voice those concerns. "How do you intend to get everyone out of the city without drawing attention from Howe?"

A heavy sigh escaped Aedan then, and he looked up to the sky as if searching for answers. "I don't know." He replied honestly, shrugging his broad shoulders. "Perhaps if we leave as a group with the Highever banner, Howe won't do anything about it until it's too late. I can't imagine how trying to sneak out a contingent of men in full battle armor can be done successfully. It seems impossible at best, so I'll have to try and bluff our way out. Denerim is full of soldiers these days it seems, maybe we won't be noticed at all. I'm more concerned about actually _getting _to Redcliffe, though. Taking the south would be the faster route, but by all reports, anywhere near Lothering is crawling with darkspawn. But going the north route would put us near Highever and Amaranthine, and if Howe realizes that the men following me are not loyal to him, he may try and stop us on the road." He pressed his fingers to his temple, rubbing at a headache that had started creeping up on him as of late.

Solona frowned slightly, halting where she stood and placed her hands gently over Aedan's. The warrior looked back at her curiously, but she simply let her hands glow with soft blue magic, the small pulse of energy leeching away the lingering headache that plagued him. "I know this is important, but please look after yourself." She chided gently, withdrawing her hands. "With all these rowdy soldiers, we can't afford to have our leader out of action on account of a cold."

He smiled at that, chuckling. "As you say, mother."

The garden's peace wasn't to last for much longer however, for as the two started to continue their walk, the sound of jangling armor and heavy running footsteps came from behind them. They both turned to see Sticker round the corner of a rosebush, his face flushed from running and normally calm expression replaced by one of dread. "Trouble!" He managed through gasps for breath, the elf standing now with his hands on his knees and breathing hard, obviously having run a long way.

Aedan walked toward him immediately, his expression grim. "What kind of trouble? Are we under attack?"

Sticker shook his head furiously, then took a deep breath and righted himself. "Kallian." He supplied, still huffing a little bit from his exertion. "I was on patrol with her, an' we found a safe-house that the slavers have been usin' to keep the elves in before sending them to the docks. We were gonna come back an' tell you, but we were ambushed. They took Kallian!"

Aedan looked stricken by the news, but Solona had completely blanched when she heard it. "No! We can't leave her to them!"

"I agree. We need to go ferret out these slavers once and for all." Aedan was already walking when he made the declaration, heading out of the maze garden with a determined stride, Sticker and Solona falling in behind him readily. "Sticker, go find Rido and the two of you wait in the foyer. We'll take a few soldiers with us to go rescue Kallian."

"Why not all of 'em?" Sicker asked, very nearly having to trot to keep up with Aedan's longer stride, the elf maneuvering closer so he could see the human's face. "Those slavers ain't easy to deal with, an' we won't be the ambushers this time."

"I'm well aware. But there's no time to waste waiting for all of them to get into their armor. A small cell should be doing drills right now and already armed, so we'll take them." The three entered the estate through the back servant's entrance, emerging into the hallway next to the groundkeeper's quarters. "The others will just have to catch up and serve as reinforcements when they're done putting their gear on." Sticker nodded and went running off immediately to find Rido as he'd been asked, leaving Solona and Aedan to make their way down to the basement where the sparring ring was.

Before they got to the stairs that would lead down to the basement, however, Aedan pulled Solona aside and scanned the halls first, making sure that nobody was around. "We'll be fighting against unknown odds when we do this." He said in a low voice, locking gazes with the mage to impress upon her the direness of the situation. "And what's more, we'll be up against who knows how many blood mages. I don't want you to hold back."

She paused, simply staring up at Aedan, then nodded slowly. "I understand. But what if the others see? If it's as bad as we're making it out to be, I might have to use… _that_."

He watched Solona's face carefully for a few seconds, then simply took her hand up in his own and splayed her fingers, revealing the light scars on her palm from using blood magic. "In the heat of battle, sometimes soldiers aren't entirely sure what they're seeing. Either way, believe that I will defend you if things get out of hand."

Relieved, she nodded and closed her hand over the scars, withdrawing her hand from Aedan's carefully. "Understood. There will be no holds barred, then. I will do my best. I hope Kallian is alright…"

"She will be." Though his eyes were uncertain, Aedan's voice was confident, and Solona took some small measure of comfort in that. "Kallian is tough and knows how to handle herself. We'll get there in time."

"I certainly hope so…"

* * *

><p><em>"One can assume a few things in dealing with these people: First, they value loyalty above all things, beyond wealth, power, and reason. Second, although few things in their country are remarkable to outsiders, they are extremely proud of their accomplishments. Third, if one insults their dogs, they are likely to declare war. And finally, one has underestimated Fereldans when he thinks he has come to understand them."<em>

-Empress Celene I of Orlais

_My lord Howe,_

_Some of the men are not pleased with your plan. They will incite others against you. For the plan to succeed, our forces must be united. If word gets out, if even one of them informs Cousland, it will be your head on a plate. I say this with all due respect, ser._

_Your captain,  
>Lowan<em>

Above is my reasoning for defecting Amaranthians. Take it or leave it 8'D And ohmygawsh, Kallian taken by slavers? Will they get there in time, or will the Tevinters have spirited her away? Find out next time on Heirs of Honor!

**PS** University has started up again, so, as I mentioned earlier, I'm going to have to cut back to once a week updates. The general notion was that you guys preferred a Friday update, so that's what's going to happen. Sorry to anybody that liked starting their week off with another chapter!

**PPS** Super thanks to JayRain for being a bouncing board for ideas again. I'm excited to have ideas settled, so hopefully I'll run into writer's block far less often now at critical times.


	25. To the Rescue

When she managed to rouse herself to consciousness, the first thing she was aware of was the smell. It was like someone had overturned a privy and sprinkled it with a healthy dose of dried blood, then let the collection of bodily fluids dry in the sun and get old. Her adrenalin spiked with fear when she recognized the smell all too clearly, her stomach churning at the realization. Cold stone pressed against her face, and when she sat up, it was to be greeted with the sight of bars. "No no no no no…"

A hand on her shoulder made her tense up, and she looked up to see the face of a young elf woman. She stood over Kallian, a look of sadness on her kind face. "Are you alright? When they put you in here, you were already unconscious."

Kallian took a deep breath and stood on shaky legs, supporting herself against the bars and trying to quell her rising panic. At least there were others here, which was comforting in a slight way. As she looked around, she noted that they weren't the only cage of elves. There were two more, one across the room and the other standing next to them. They were in a wide-open space with a high ceiling, not like the dungeon she had been imprisoned in last, and the space was occupied mostly by packing crates. There were four other elves packed into the cage with her, and they looked like they had wedged themselves to the far corners to make room while she had been lying around unconscious for who only knew how long.

"We need to move the cargo."

All the elves froze when they heard the voice. A mage with feathery shoulder adornments and robes trimmed with crimson was at the head of a party of soldiers, five armed men following in his wake.

"It's only a four man team. Surely they'll pose little threat-"

The mage turned sharply on the armored man who dared to speak. "Do you have only air in your head?" he screeched, his face flushing with anger. "Someone has been plaguing our shipments for months! And now there are intruders heading straight for us? Put two and two together you dolt!"

The armored man baulked visibly. "I'm sorry magister-"

"You had better well be sorry." the Mage hissed in return, stomping back to the center of the room. "Chain them all. We need to head to the safe-house before the intruders get here."

Kallian shrank away from the bars when the slavers approached, manacles in hand. Her heart began to race, adrenalin and fear spiking sharply in equal measure. Not again. Never again. She would not be chained. The cage door opened and the slavers took the elves roughly and clamped them in irons. When one reached forward to grab Kallian and drag her out as well, she sprung into action.

She grabbed his extended wrist and pulled him forward with all of her strength, jerking him off balance. Caught off guard like this he had no chance to defend himself when she slammed her palm into the back of his elbow. It snapped backward at an unnatural angle and the man fell forward on the ground with a pained cry. Kallian quickly got her hand on the pommel of his sword and withdrew the blade attached to the sheath on his back, then just as quickly re-sheathed it in the space between his neck and armor. Kallian twisted the blade for good measure, then wrenched it back out in a spray of blood and stood to face down the remaining four slavers with a look of grim determination. They stared at her blankly in return, unable to believe that the small elf woman had just taken down one of their own in a matter of seconds.

The magister however seemed unimpressed, and decided that he was going to be having none of this independent foolishness.

Kallian saw the Mage prick his palm but before she could act his spell slammed into her like a charging Qunari. Her limbs snapped to her sides and she struggled to breath as all the blood in her body seemed to sear through her veins, the sword dropping limply from her fingers as she silently tried to scream. The magister let her suffer like that for a little while, dropped her with a flick of his fingers, leaving her panting in a trembling heap on the floor.

"This one is quite resilient. She could make an excellent blood slave or body guard if trained up a little." The magister sounded vaguely impressed when he walked toward Kallian, examining her like one would an animal at the fair. She gritted her teeth and tried to struggle to her feet, but the butt of the mage's staff pressed against her neck, making it impossible to rise. "Ah ah, we can't have you acting all rebellious like this. You'll stir up the others, and then we'll have to kill you to set an example. We wouldn't want that, would we?"

Kallian's anger was burning hot, her fists clenching against the stone floor. "I ain't content to sit quiet an' wait to be sold shem. I ain't goin' back in your cage, an' I ain't gettin' on your ship. Yer gonna have to kill me if you want me to go quiet."

She felt him increase the pressure of the staff on her neck and could see the mage's face start to turn purple in anger. There was a sudden commotion that sounded like fighting, then an eerie silence for a few seconds after. The sudden silence that followed was almost painful to listen to, then the door burst open and nearly came off its hinges, the wood splintering with a loud crack.

"Give up easy shemlen, and we'll consider letting you die quickly."

Kallian's heart raced, for she recognized that strange drawling accent immediately. The Grey Wardens had come. The pressure of the staff against her neck had lessened with the sudden disturbance and she looked up to see Theron splattered with blood, dual swords in hand. Alistair was at his side ready to do battle, the grim looking Qunari also at hand. A mabari pushed it's way forward, panting lightly with a snout covered entirely in crimson and it's flanks flecked with gore. She had never been so happy to see them as she was at this moment, blood and all.

"Well well, what do we have here?" The magister drawled, seemingly completely unthreatened despite the fact that the four looked not much the worse for wear despite having had to take out the patrols surrounding the building that were supposed to prevent their entry into the slave holding compound.

"Being coy isn't in your best interest right now shemlen Mage." Theron replied with a snarl. He looked over the slaves, his eyes lingering on Kallian for a few seconds longer then the others. "What's it going to be?"

The Mage sneered at Theron's forthrightness bit didn't loose his cool completely, keeping a loose grip on his staff. "Perhaps a deal can be arranged?" The magister asked, his haughty tone indicating that he expected to get his way in the end. "These slaves are worth something, ragged as they are. What say you if I were to give you 50 sovereigns, and you turn a blind eye to this, hm? Sound like a deal?"

Theron remained silent for a long moment, then he finally chuckled, the sound oddly hollow. "You shemlen are all the same. You disgust me."

The mage looked honestly surprised that the elf had turned down such an impressive sum, but had his game face back on almost immediately. "If that is the way it must be-" Without warning the mage dug his nails into the bleeding wound on his palm and brought forth his powerful blood magic in a single instant, slamming down a spell of blood binding on the four intruders.

Theron's face screwed up in concentration as he tried to resist the mental suggestion but the magister quickly won that battle. The elf, the mabari and the Qunari all tensed in silent suffering as their blood boiled, leaving Alistair the only one unaffected by the spell, though he seemed to be concentrating very hard on something else and shaping words silently with quick moving lips.

"Alistair-" Theron managed to growl out, and the ex-templar nodded in understanding. He began gathering his will, and even Kallian could see it as he suddenly slammed that gathered power over the mage. She felt the cool wash of air as the smite rolled over her without harm, but the mage staggered under it's weight, falling to his knees with a loud groan and the armed soldiers ringing him seemed stunned as the Templar magic hit them. The second that the blood mage was disabled his spell over the three broke and they rushed forward. The mabari charging the line and got his jaws around the first within range, an unfortunate slaver who quickly found his face scratched to tatters by the vicious dog.

Kallian got to her feet as well, shaking off the lingering feeling of the blood magic and reclaimed the short sword she had nicked earlier from the dead slaver. When she went to try out the weapon on the downed mage at her feet, she was stopped by a staggering pulse of energy, the mage glaring death at her from his place on the floor. The Wardens were there then, and everything turned to instant chaos.

Swords screeched against each other as the armed slavers leapt to defend themselves and the magister, one nearly hamstringing Kallian as she struggled to regain her balance after the mage's powerful mental blast. The sharp clang of metal on metal finally pulled her out of the daze when it sounded from right behind her, and she whirled on the spot, eyes wide but all barbs and daggers. Standing at her back struggling to hold off the armored man that had very nearly succeeded in crippling her was Norris. She sprung to his defense immediately, the two easily taking out the single armored man when they put both their strength into it. Kallian struck a fatal blow against the slaver's neck, spraying hot crimson blood all over and he went limp like a sack of flour.

"Norris! Why are you here?" She asked, quickly relieving the dead man of his sword and taking it as her own, pinning the younger elf with a disbelieving stare. "I thought you were with Sticker."

"I was." Norris replied with a lopsided grin. He turned to watch as the three remaining armored slavers and the magister pitted themselves against the Warden's group, the two sides fighting fiercely against one another, apparently matched for strength with their mage only at half power. "But we split when we were being followed. I found the Wardens in the Market, and they agreed to help out."

"An' Sticker?" Kallian asked, hoping that the elf had managed to get somewhere safe. She didn't see him locked up in the cages with the others.

Norris didn't get the chance to answer her question, for at that moment the big bay doors to the warehouse burst open with a clatter of wood and iron, admitting a host of new slavers to the three already doing battle with the Wardens. The one who seemed to be in charge got a look at the chaos and the two free elves that had managed to claim swords, and ordered the others with him to battle in Arcanum.

Kallian grabbed Norris by the wrist and dragged him away from the charging line of slavers. He needed very little urging, and the two ducked around a flailing slaver just as he was stabbed through the middle and then decapitated in a spray of blood by Alistair, who barely even flinched when he noticed the ten others dashing through the box-strewn warehouse. He simply hunkered down and met the charge with a clash of shield and swords, shoving the first one who came at him back, then another quick shield flourish caught the man upside the head, stunning him. Nearby Sten was making a huge dent in enemy morale, the broad sweeps of his weapon denting armor and shattering a blade that had been raised in an attempt at a parry. Under it was the mabari, grabbing ankles and dragging them to the ground screaming, Theron working with deadly precision to strike at the exposed parts of the soldiers when they were busy concentrating on the Qunari that stood a good chance to cleave them in half.

Kallian was so bewildered by how the four effortlessly seemed to work together that she was afraid to join the skirmish to help out. They held their ground for a good long while, but soon enough the numbers pitted against them started to wear at the four's reserves, and Kallian could see that they were tiring. "Got any bombs?" She asked quickly of Norris, who nodded mutely and handed over a few flasks of swirling dangerous looking liquid. She tested the weight of a flask of acid briefly in the palm of her hand, then lobbed the vial over the head of Alistair, the flask cracking with a hiss against the helmet of a man that had just stepped up to face the blonde human. The slaver stumbled backward into another one, screaming and clawing at his face as the acid ate at his skin. Not one to miss such an opportunity, Alistair ran him through, earning a bit of breathing space when the corpse jostled the others behind him, nearly knocking one over.

Wounds appeared on both sides, the formidable offense that the Wardens had started out with slowly becoming a bitter defense as the slavers pressed them into a retreat, though they took heavy losses for the minor gain that it provided them. Then the bay doors were filled with stamping boots and armored bodies as another dozen of the slavers poured in the door. Just as Theron had finished a rather rude explicative in dismay, the force was followed by a second in full battle gear, these new armored fighters obviously not of Tevinter origin.

"Bless the Maker…" Norris breathed in relief, instantly recognizing Aedan at the head of the charge flanked by three others on either side that bore the House Cousland heraldry on their shields. The sudden influx of bodies sowed chaos in the Tevinter ranks, the soldiers running each other over as they tried to figure out what to do when they were suddenly pinned between a well-trained and well-armed force and the group of six that blocked the stairs to the only other exit out of the building surrounded by a pile of dead bodies.

A handful seemed able to do quick math and they charged the smaller group half-comprised of under-protected rogue types. One simply rammed straight into Alistair, locking shields with him and shoving him backward until he was pinned against an awkwardly placed crate. Theron tried to assist him but was intercepted by another wild-eyed slaver who put all of his effort into trying to rip the elf to shreds. The opening was enough, and Kallian suddenly found herself face to face with a very angry and very desperate man that had slipped past Sten and was bent on killing anyone that stood between him and the door out.

They fought for a few frantic seconds, Kallian retreating in the wake of his wild powerful swings, using her faster speed and greater body control to keep from getting sliced to ribbons. Then suddenly she was falling, her heel caught on the bottom stair and tripping her up mid-dodge. In that adrenalin packed second she realized that the slaver had won and would most certainly plunge his blade through her innards with no resistance on her part and her throat closed off in panic. Then Norris was there, awkwardly trying to parry the blow to the side but only half managed the feat. By the time that Kallian hit the stairs, the slaver had cut a deep wound across the young elf's chest, tearing fabric and flesh with a spray of blood.

Norris collapsed at her feet, and Kallian was sure that she screamed for him when he did. The slaver looked slightly shocked at the sudden development, but recovered quickly with a maniac grin and stepped over the prone body to finish the job and make his escape. He jolted and dropped his weapon, turning fully around when a dagger slipped between his shoulder blades and was ripped to the side, only to have his throat slashed deeply enough to nearly decapitate him and crumpled just to the side of Norris' prone body. Theron shot the downed elves a look, then turned on his heel and got back to the battle, his daggers a flurry of blurring metal in his hands when he leapt to the defense of Sten, the Qunari pressed hard to continue to stem the tide of slavers that were trying to make a similar bid for freedom.

Kallian got to her feet despite her protesting muscles and threw herself into the chaotic fray, twisting out of the way of swords and plunged her blades into the back sides of men when they faced someone else to engage in battle and fell back when they turned to her. The battle wound down, and after a few magical explosions and any number of desperate attempts to turn the tides, the Tevinter forces were finally dead to a man, a victory cry coming from the small force that Aedan had brought along for the search and rescue mission when they realized they had won.

But there was no instant surge of joy for Kallian. She dropped her weapons and spun on the spot, her feet carrying her quickly to where Norris still laid on the ground and gently turned him so that she could see his face. He was pale as a ghost, but blinked at her, his eyes unfocused and watery, blood coloring his teeth as he gasped for air with a wet sound in his chest, blood leaking out of the fatally deep wound at an alarming rate.

Kallian pressed her hands to the gash, her fingers instantly becoming slick and crimson with his blood. "Hold on Norris." She whispered, panic in her eyes and her voice as she pressed harder against the wound. "Hold on. You can't die. Yer sister's gonna kill me fer lettin' you get hurt. You _can't_ die!"

He smiled at that, his laugh becoming a wheezing wet cough and then a rattling gasp for breath. "I'm sorry." He whispered, managing to lift a shaking cold hand to his chest and weakly placed it over Kallian's, the smile on his face becoming rapidly more absent as his eyes drifted closed.

"No!" She practically screamed at him, shaking him while still maintaining pressure. "Don't be sorry, you idiot! You saved me! Jus' stay alive! Oh Maker _please_ stay alive!"

Solona rushed to her side, stumbling once when she stepped on the wrist of a dead slaver and it shifted under her foot, but managed to push her way between Alistair and Theron who were staring on at the spectacle in dull silence. They had seen plenty of death and wounds in battle to know better than to think that he was within the mage's ability to heal, and turned away from the scene at almost the same time.

"Solona, heal him!" Kallian choked, her eyes beginning to well up with tears and her throat became strangely restricted. "You gotta save him. You _have_ to save him!"

"I'll try." The mage replied tersely, kneeling next to Norris and let her staff clatter to the ground nearby, placing her hands on either side of Kallian's, her hands glowing with soothing blue light. She frowned, biting her lip when her magic began to falter, the energy that the battle beforehand had sapped at her strength. Even when she managed to close up the surface of the wound somewhat, she realized the severity of it. The sword had punctured deeply, probably tearing into Norris' lungs and any number of other vital organs when it was ripped sideways through him. She simply wasn't good enough of a healer to even dream of saving him from this state. "I'm sorry." She whispered, withdrawing her hands much to Kallian's dismay and bowed her head to avoid the accusing stare that the elf shot her. "I can't…"

"No…" Her voice was tinged with desperation, and a rogue tear finally broke free of her eyes when she met Norris' distant gaze. "You gotta pull through…"

Norris drew another deep breath, his face blanching further at the pain that such a simple action caused. "Sola…" A whisper of breath left him, and Kallian knew that he was dead, his head lolling to the side limply and the hand he had placed over hers slipping to his side.

Solona pulled Kallian into a hug seconds before she burst into loud tears. The normally composed witty elf broke down completely, mourning the loss of the young life ended too quickly, a dear friend that had died to save her.

* * *

><p>OMG CHARACTER DEATH! I was <em>this<em> close to killing off Sticker or Rido instead, since they've had a little more face time, but I decided that they have some usefulness left yet and besides, this way Kallian is going to get her ass handed to her by a certain angry older sister. DRAMAAAAAAA~! But lo, what are the Wardens doing back in Denerim? I suppose that you'll just have to find out next chapter!


	26. Until We Meet Again

Night blanketed Denerim city, the air heavy and stale in the sweltering summer heat that pervaded even during the night. A storm lingered on the horizon, the dark clouds hovering over the ocean were illuminated with lightning that flashed from within. The streets were quiet, all of the residents retreating to their homes to escape the heat and the coming storm that was bound to break before the night was over.

Theron, however, was not content to linger in the room that Aedan had offered, feeling entirely too cooped up in the grand estate that the group of vagabonds had managed to acquire in a process that was as of yet unexplained to the Wardens. Or at least to him, at any rate. Alistair seemed to have understood the situation right away, but Theron wasn't entrenched enough in the political schemes of the shemlen to understand what the significance was, other than Aedan supposedly held the same rank as Loghain, but he wasn't _technically_ a Teyrn, because of more details that he was fuzzy on.

The two groups had left the storehouse together to return to the Highever estate and after the initial drama that unfolded when Sola rushed upstairs to see her little brother dead and the resulting tear-filled angry lecture aimed at Kallian, there had been awkward silence in the halls. The soldiers that Aedan had brought to the fight were dismissed, and the housekeeper had ushered away the Wardens to their rooms while the others stayed behind and tried to figure out what to do with the dead lad.

At the moment, Sten was minding his equipment and Alistair was trying to convince the human woman that ran general affairs that he needed to eat despite the late hour. With everyone busy doing their own thing, Theron had decided that it was a good time to go missing for a little while, entirely uncomfortable spending too much time under a roof and enclosed by walls. He left through a door to the garden outside and inhaled deeply when he was back out under the open sky, glad for the fresh air even if it was tinged with the dull rot of city life. He stood in silence for a long moment, then something caught his ear. Cocking his head, Theron listened for it again, and caught the whisper of sound that rose and feel in a gentle sad cadence. Was someone singing?

Curious, he followed the noise, but no matter how he looked around the grounds there was nobody. Looking up, he wondered for a moment if perhaps that whoever was out could be on the roof. Deciding that there would be no harm in looking, he slipped off his boots, looked for a handhold, then took a few steps back and ran forward, pushing off the wall to gain some height so that his fingers caught the sill of a narrow window and started the climb to get onto the roof. The stones of the building were sturdy, but uneven, which provided a plethora of places to grab onto and continue ever upward. Scaling the building wasn't really that much different than scaling a tree, Theron noticed with a self-satisfied grin. Even if there was nobody on the roof, he figured that the climb would be worth it. It took his mind off the business of trying to gather an army and any other number of things that were important to the fate of the entire world. At the moment, he was just a regular elf, climbing a regular wall.

Once he hauled himself up over the edge and onto the tiled sloping roof, Theron dusted off his hands and looked around. It took him a little while, but he spotted a huddled figure sitting on top of the roof's peak that pointed toward the sea, the vantage point providing a clear view of the sea beyond the high walls that surrounded the compound. He walked closer and began to make out the words to the sad trilling song.

"_The clouds roll on in the endless night,  
>The stars shine upon the sea<br>May the waters find your path to be fair  
>Until we meet again. Until we meet again.<em>

_The winter's sky is cold and bright  
>The morning sun is nigh.<br>The road you travel is straight and true  
>Until we meet again. Until we meet aga-"<em>

A tile cracked under his foot, and the singer whipped her head around, green eyes wide as she looked for the intruder, her song cutting off immediately.

Kallian relaxed a bit when she saw that it was only Theron, and turned her gaze back out over the ocean. "Go away." She hunkered down, wrapping her arms around her knees and rested her chin on them, determined not to look back and let the Warden see her tear-stained face again.

He paused, unsure of what his next action should be, then walked forward and crouched down next to her on the slanted roof, looking out over the ocean as well. "It was a beautiful song."

Despite her resolve to not look Theron in the face, Kallian turned at the unexpected compliment and rubbed the heel of her palm against her eye, wiping away another stray tear. "You don't have to say that t'make me feel better. I know you ain't a fan of city elves."

He sighed heavily and finally sat on the edge of the roof, letting his legs dangle over the edge. "A close friend of yours died today." He replied softly, glancing sideways at Kallian for a second before resuming his tense study of the horizon. "In this, it does not matter to which race you belong. I understand your pain, and you have my condolences."

Kallian nodded almost imperceptibly, then simply rested her chin on her arm and looked out over the horizon as she had been before, letting the silence between them stretch for a long moment as the embankment of clouds rolled steadily toward them. "Tell me about the Dalish."

Admittedly, Theron was caught off guard by the murmured request and briefly contemplated all the possible consequences of telling this city-born elf anything about his people. Unconsciously, his hand trailed to a deep scar on his arm given to him by Swiftrunner, the vicious werewolf desperate to protect their secret hideout in the ruined temple had singled him out and attacked with all his might. After a bit of deliberation he decided that if she really wanted to know, then he really had no reason not to tell her. The recent events in the Brecilian, however, he would keep to himself. "What do you want to know?"

She shrugged with a noncommittal nose in the back of her throat. "I don't know, anything I guess. How do you live in the forest? What's it like never bein' in a city? That sort of thing."

"Well, we don't sacrifice goats to our gods, first of all."

Kallian snorted and smiled for a brief second. "Still sore about that, huh?"

In return Theron simply shrugged his indifference. "I've heard elves from the city come to us with wilder tales. I don't know who tells you that we sacrifice infants to the trees, but we don't."

"That's reassuring. Then at least I can be happy that if Pol _did _manage to find the Dalish, that he wasn't laid out on a stone tablet for some blood ritual." Kallian rolled her eyes, though she dearly hoped that elves from the city were also excluded from the list of things that the Dalish sacrificed to pagan gods.

"Pol?" Theron lifted his head at the name, recognizing it instantly though it took him a few seconds longer to place the name with the face. "There was a Pol that joined my clan shortly before I was recruited to the Wardens. He was an elf of the city as well."

Instantly Kallian's mood lightened at the news, her teeth showing in a broad grin. "He made it!" She breathed with a relived sigh. "I'm glad. He got into some bad trouble with the guard, an' after they tried to get him, we never heard 'bout him again. We all thought that if he was probably taken an' locked up for good. Held a funeral for him an' everythin'."

Theron cocked an eyebrow at that, tilting his head in curiosity. "What crime did he commit that the punishment is death?"

Kallian waved her hand dismissively, a look of disgust wrinkling her brow. "Filched something from somebody, maybe. If you get caught, you get arrested, an' if you can't pay the fine, you get put in prison or executed. Well, there ain't no elf from our Alienage that can pay the fine fer much of anythin', so if yer taken by the guard, then yer dead. It's… how it works." A chilly wind made her shudder, the stillness of the air finally breaking as the storm steadily drew closer to them, breaking the heavy silence that had engulfed the city. Without warning, the wind suddenly picked up and began whipping around, screaming through open windows and blowing all manner of trash and papers around below. Kallian stood, patting off her pants then walked the way that Theron had come, expertly navigating over the roof tiles with careful soft steps. "Looks like that's the cue to leave."

The two elves scaled back down the side of the building, though Kallian beat Theron to the ground by a lot and made sure to heckle him from her place safely on the ground while he tried to follow her handholds. By the time that he managed to reach the ground, she had already put her shoes back on and was walking through the doors.

Taking his heavy boots in hand, Theron followed, seeing as he had no desire to get utterly drenched in the storm that was about to come. The whipping wind ceased as soon as the two were through the doors that lead to the grand ballroom, the thick stone walls doing an excellent job of keeping the terrible weather outside where it belonged.

"Why do they call you _Gray_ Wardens anyway?" Kallian mused out loud, glancing over her shoulder at the Dalish elf who was more than content to keep his shoes off.

Snorting, Theron continued walking into the estate, trying to remember the way back to his designated room. "Ask the order. Unfortunately, I didn't get the full history lesson."

"Well, I mean, why don't they call you the _Red_ Wardens?" Kallian continued, catching up and walking by his side. "I mean, every time I see you bursting through doors, you're always covered in blood. Seems more appropriate if all you do all day is running around kicking asses."

That got a bitter chuckle out of him, and he nodded his head in agreement. It did seem like a more appropriate name, given the current circumstances. He seriously doubted that most Wardens had to put up with all of the same crap that he did, what with trying to single-handedly stop a Blight while facing incriminating charges from the country's ruling forces. No matter where he went, it always seemed that things ended with someone dead. "Perhaps when we're done saving the world, I'll petition whoever is in charge to have the name changed."

The two were in the guest halls now, Kallian expertly navigating the way since she was far more used to the layout of the estate, and Theron was content to follow, only just now beginning to recognize where he was.

"So, what are you doin' back in Denerim?" Kallian hedged, glancing at the taller elf out of the corner of her eye. "I didn't think we'd see ya fer a few weeks yet. The gossipers had you guys pegged in the Brecilian."

He shouldn't have been surprised to hear that this city elf had been keeping tabs on their position, but he was surprised to hear that somehow word of their travels was being reported all across Ferelden. He didn't even know how that was possible, since he knew that the Dalish didn't talk to outsiders. Perhaps they had someone following them? Or… maybe it was Bohdan. Now that he thought about it, that was the most likely answer. Right. The short man was getting a severe talking-to. "We were headed to Orzammar." Theron replied after a little while, correctly assuming that whether he told Kallian or not, she would find out anyway. "But Lothering is completely plagued with darkspawn. It would be foolish to head south past them, even if we are Grey Wardens. Besides, we needed to restock our supplies a bit, and Denerim was closer than Redcliffe. We'll be heading out tomorrow though."

Kallian nodded absently, then stopped in front of a door that Theron assumed was her own room, placing her hand on the doorknob lightly. For a long while she simply stared at the floor, her face an expressionless mask, then she glanced up at him, and there was a wealth of sadness in her gaze. "All the same. I don't want ya to think that I'm ungrateful fer you comin' in today. Thanks fer… savin' me an' all. I owe you one." With a nod, she disappeared behind the door and left Theron to his own devices. Once she was out of sight, Kallian pressed her back against the solid mass of the old wooden door and slid down it until she could rest her forehead against her knees.

"Norris…" She whispered under her breath, voice hitching. "I'm so sorry…"

•º•.•º•

The funeral rights were given by one of the women of the Chantry, the young woman uttering the words with great solemnity, as if she actually cared. Nola cried the entire time, surrounded by others that offered condolences and cried along with her. Even outside of the Alienage, the mentality that they had grown up with persisted. A loss of one was a loss of all.

Through the ceremony Kallian stayed withdrawn from it all, listening to the Chant as the voice that sung it rose and fell, the pyre that Norris' body was laid on went up in flames, commemorating his body and soul to the Void and the Maker. Nola's crying spiked, and it took the physical support of her fellows to keep her on her feet. Even then Kallian simply stood with dry eyes and a passive expression, her arms crossed over her chest as she observed the fire.

The gathered elves began to disperse then, the ceremony done until the ashes could be collected and given back the family. Kallian however, remained behind and Solona stayed after when she noticed, Aedan lurking just out of earshot.

The mage put her hand on Kallian's forearm, squeezing gently. "Come on, let's head back." She murmured softly, but Kallian showed no signs of moving.

Instead, she began unraveling the strip of red cloth on her left hand. "I'm goin' with you." She replied, glancing over her shoulder at Solona. "To Redcliffe, I mean. You guys could use someone rogue-like an' dastardly, right? I think I fit the description." She took a step forward, drawing her arm out of Solona's hand and approached the fire. When the heat of the open flame was too much to continue further, she tossed the fabric onto the burning pyre. It caught fire almost immediately, the hungry flames consuming the dry fabric rapidly and an updraft caught the light material, sending it high with the ashes of the burning flame. Kallian watched it soar into the sky with the smoke, drifting ever upward as it deteriorated to nothing but unrecognizable ashes fluttering in the wind.

"Are you sure?" Solona asked, stepping forward so that she was just a few paces behind Kallian, trying to work out the elf's emotions, but she was given precious little to go on. She'd shut herself up tight.

"Yeah…" Once the ashes of her tribute had been thoroughly scattered, she turned and gave Solona a small smile that did nothing to ease the mage's concern. "I'm leavin' Sticker in charge. He'll look after 'em all."

Solona paused, biting her lip to keep from saying something that might make Kallian retreat further. "If you think that it'll be best."

Nodding, Kallian lead the way back to the estate, two concerned friends trailing in her wake.

•º•.•º•

Kallian was standing outside the tower doors that lead to the basement of the estate, a silent inner battle being ferociously raged as she tried to force herself to take that last step and open the wooden door. It was just a basement. It's not like she was going to get locked up the moment that she set foot over the threshold. The others were down there too, so she wasn't going to be alone either. But still, even with all of those rational thoughts piled up on top of one another, there was still no moving her body. Her wrists itched with remembered pain of the chains that had kept her bound, and below the forced self-assurances that everything would be all right her instincts were screaming to run away and never come back.

"Kallian?"

She jumped at the deep voice, spinning in place and landing in a position to fight, her hands reaching for her daggers. If Sticker was surprised by her reaction, he didn't show it, simply looking at the redhead with a cocked eyebrow, his yellow-green eyes searching her face. "Something wrong?"

Heaving a huge sigh, Kallian shook the nervousness out of her fingers and pressed her thumb against the bridge of her nose. "Naw, you just startled me somethin' good, is all." Recovering from the momentary adrenalin high, Kallian let her hand fall to her side and looked up at Sticker, her face completely serious. "I actually needed to find you. I'm gonna leave you in charge of things while I'm gone." She pasted on her best smile. "Maker knows that Ammy and Basher probably are gonna need all the help that they can get. So when they go to Redcliffe, I'm gonna head out with 'em."

For a long moment there was silent between the two elves, then Sticker crossed his arms over his chest. "No."

Kallian blinked, sure that she had heard him wrong. "What?"

"Nope. You're not shoving this off on me." Sticker reiterated, his face a mask of pure stubbornness.

She didn't even bother to hide her confusion, though the astonishment was quickly being replaced by annoyance, however. "Why not?"

In reply, Sticker sighed, uncrossing his arms long enough to run a hand through his tightly cropped orange-red hair. "I ain't a leader, Kallian. You're the boss here. But if you leave us, if you run away, then don't you dare come back." He glared daggers at the smaller woman, and Kallian couldn't help but to be surprised into silence by the declaration. "You're not goin' because you're concerned for those two. Cousland can handle himself, and if he can't the mage will put down anyone that comes after him like a rabid dog. You're goin' because you're giving up. You got your nose burned, and now you're afraid."

Kallian's fists clenched, her anger rising hot an fast. "Don't you dare call me a coward."

"Prove me wrong." Sticker shot right back, totally undeterred by Kallian's sudden fury. "Look me in the eye and tell me that you're not running away because Sola ripped you a new one. You botched something, and one of your men lost his life trying' to protect you. Tell me that isn't the reason you're trying to escape."

For a long moment, Kallian managed to hold Sticker's gaze, but she couldn't form the words to prove him wrong. She wasn't going to win this challenge. With guilt clawing at her throat, she sighed and turned her face away, hugging her arms to her chest. "Maybe I ain't cut out for this." She admitted in a small voice. "Gettin' captured like that, an' the raid on their ship that went cross-eyed. I've nearly killed everyone twice already."

"So you think that give you the right to abandon us?" Sticker asked with a raised eyebrow, showing absolutely no sympathy for Kallian. "You go down the stairs and look the others dead in the eye, and then tell them that you're quitting. You forget that you've saved every one of us. Me, Sola, Norris… He just repaid his debt early."

Kallian sniffed, then rubbed the underside of her wrist against her eyes, squeezing out the tears before they could fall. A dry chuckle left her, then she managed to look up and meet Sticker's intense gaze unflinchingly. "Fine. If you feel so strongly about it. I'd be an idiot to leave 'em to you anyway. You'd march 'em all off the edge of the pier."

Sticker grinned at that and gave her a hearty pound on the back. "Damn straight, and don't you forget it."

"Oh, and Sticker…" Without warning, Kallian suddenly slugged him in the arm with all her strength, causing the larger elf to stagger back in surprise, clutching his forearm where her punch had connected. Once he was done scrambling and staring at her like she' grown a second head, Kallian put her hands on her hips with her best 'I'm in charge' look. "Never ever tell me 'no' again, you understand?"

Rubbing his arm, Sticker straightened with a laugh. "Yeah boss. Whatever you say."

"Good." Feeling better than she had in days, Kallian allowed herself a soft smile. "Thanks for pulling me out. I was actin' like a real ass there for a minuet."

Sticker nodded, a sly look on his face. "Whatever you say, boss."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> Lyrics by me~!

So, a Kallian character study, with a little Theron thrown in for fun. He's still this huge shifting grey area to me in terms of personality and everything, but I know that it's safe to say at this point our poor Warden hero is a bit conflicted, what with the Dalish vs. Werewolves epidemic that just went down not so long ago. Conflict makes for funtimes as far as I'm concerned though, so~!

**ALSO!** Next chapter, HoH will officially _**break the 100k-word barrier**_! I want to do something special to celebrate. Suggestions from you guys will be taken for a **super special celebratory chapter!** Leave a comment with your suggestion, then we'll see what happens. Suggest anything and everything! I promise not to discard any ideas out of hand! Click the review button! You know you want to! Dooooo iiiiiiit!


	27. A Celebration

**First, I want to thank my dedicated reviewers, Deadly Haven, Smashbrawlguy, spectre4hire, mille libri and JayRain. Warm fuzzes to all of the first time and sporadic reviewers out there as well, and lurker cookies to watchers. I wanted to make sure that you all know how much I appreciate your attention since it keeps me going, and look where we are now! 100k words, over 100 reviews, and more than 12k page hits. Much love all around.**

**Secondly, you guys were pretty unanimous on wanting to see some romance finally happen, and if you don't catch your idea here in this chapter, be assured that I'm probably keeping it in the tank for later. You guys are awesome for spawning plot bunnies. So, as promised, here's the super celebratory chapter, aka: The Most Fanservicy Thing I've Ever Written.**

* * *

><p>"What do you mean you forgot?"<p>

"Normally I'm not huffy, but I'm with Ammy on this one Basher."

"Things have been busy, time just slipped away…"

Solona shook her head solemnly, Kallain mirroring the mage's expression of displeasure as the two women stared down Aedan, looking equal parts bemused and annoyed. He rolled his eyes and sighed, exasperated. "Look, it's not that big of a deal-"

"Not that big of a deal?" Kallian cocked an eyebrow. "Basher, we're livin' by the seat of our pants here! Any day Howe can come swoopin' in on us an' tear this whole thing apart!"

"Yeah, swooping is _bad_." Alistair chimed in, crossing his arms over his chest and earning a slow shake of the head from Theron who seemed content to let everyone else at the table do the speaking.

"Exactly." Kallian agreed readily, entirely missing the inside joke that passed between the two Wardens invoked by the comment. "We need every reason to perk up the mood around here, an' your birth day will do it."

"Besides, Rebecca would be _devastated_ if we didn't celebrate." Solona added, folding her hands together on the table in a manner that was entirely too professional given the topic that they were talking about. "She already got all the ingredients for a cake, and you know how hard it's been to get sugar with every ship in the area forgoing trading supplies for shipping people out of Ferelden as of late."

"Ooh, there's going to be cake? Well that just seals the deal, doesn't it?" Looking entirely too cheerful, Alistair tried his best puppy face on Aedan, turning on the childish-charm full blast. "You wouldn't _really_ turn down cake, would you?"

For a long while Aedan held out against the combined power of the three pleading with him to have a little joy in life, then his willpower finally caved in and he sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Fine." The admission was met with various states of glee, though Aedan stopped any preemptive celebrations by lifting his hand. "But! The first person that tries to blindfold me for a "surprise" is getting their arm broken, understand?"

Kallian stood from her chair immediately, almost knocking it over backward and gave Aedan a sloppy salute. "Aye captain! Come on Ammy, we gotta go tell Rebecca that he gave in." Giggling, Solona allowed herself to be taken by the hand out of her seat and followed the elf out of the room, waving over her shoulder as the two disappeared into the hallway. Alistair rose from his chair as well and stopped mid-way, casting a quick glance to Theron who nodded once and then was off as well.

Sighing, Aedan couldn't help the small smile that twitched up the corners of his lips and looked out the window into the garden below where Keran and Falonfen, the Warden's dog were chasing after each other with abandon, glad to have a fellow four-legged friend. "Well, that meeting was productive up until I remembered what the date was."

Again, Theron simply nodded, fingering some papers sitting in front of his place at the table that they had all been at moments before, now abandoned save for the two. He chuckled suddenly, and relaxed against the back of his own chair. "I suppose we all need a day off. The Creators only know when the next time will come that we'll be safe enough to take it easy."

"I'd hardly call our situation safe. We've been lucky so far…" Aedan replied warily, shifting through a stack of papers that he'd had brought back from the nest of slave traders that they had put out of business.

"I don't know. This Howe man being out of the city on business with Loghain seems like a fairly safe time." Standing, Theron shrugged and headed for the door. "I'm going to practice a bit. I'll get that letter to Eamon written for you before we leave."

Aedan inclined his head in silent thanks and watched as the Warden left, moving as silently as Kallian usually did. Bloody rogues. They always moved like ghosts. Sighing, he gathered up all of the papers that had been scattered about during their brief attempt at organizing and making contingency plans, but he realized that there was little hope of getting everyone back together now and in a serious mood enough to concentrate. Once everything was stacked and orderly he stared at the pile, wondering what to do now, then abandoned the study room in favor of watching the chaos unfold downstairs. And there was bound to be chaos if Kallian was going to be the one driving things.

•º•.•º•

Down on the main floor Theron was wandering around, hopelessly lost. He could navigate though a forest with any number of twists and turns by the guiding lights of the stars alone, but inside a building he was absolutely hopeless. Being enclosed on all sides by the rigid stone was still not something that he was used to, and he always felt utterly bewildered when trying to navigate through an extensive series of hallways. Usually Alistair or Sten would lead the way since they were more of the offence and defense types, the two of them far more used to operating indoors, and that was absolutely fine by him.

Passing by another hallway he saw movement out of the corner of his eye and abruptly stopped, jerking backward to see what it was and saw Kallian walking away from him, striding determinedly like she had a purpose. Deciding that whatever it was she was doing was less important than getting himself un-lost, Theron took off down the hall after her. "Hold a moment!"

She swung around to face him, eyebrow arched in curiosity. "Need somethin'? I figured you an' Basher would be at it for a bit yet."

"Well, no, the meeting sort of fell apart when everyone left the room." Theron replied in a deadpan, arching his eyebrow slightly as if this should have been extremely obvious.

Kallian rolled her eyes and waved off his attitude, larger things on her mind then putting the Warden in his place. "Whatcha lookin' fer, then?"

He considered his response for a second, then eyed Kallian up and down with a quick flick of his eyes then changed his mind. "A fight, actually." Theron said, much to Kallian's utter bewilderment.

"Wha-?"

"Well, sparing, more like. I saw your blade work earlier. I think I'd like to spar against someone that fights… decently." He hesitated, hoping that Kallian wouldn't ask too eagerly for him to explain and tried very hard not to remember the first time that Zevran had pulled him into a sparring match. _That_ had been indecent.

Folding her arms across her chest, Kallian immediately started going into defiance mode, sensing a challenge. "Decently? What, you think you can beat me with hands tied or somethin'? That what you're sayin'?" She narrowed her eyes and didn't let the taller elf respond, snorting and turned on her heel. "Fine! You've asked fer it pretty boy, Warden or no! I'll hand your rear end to you an' have you cryin' to yer mother."

Unsure what had just transpired in Kallian's head, Theron at first didn't move from where he had been standing in the hallway, then realized that he was supposed to follow and started after her, keeping always a couple of paces behind. She led him out into the yard, the emergence out of the hallways and into the garden maze behind the estate startlingly abrupt for the Dalish who before had no idea that he had been so close to the outdoors this entire time.

Once the two elves were outside, Kallian kept walking, following the wall of the building instead of trying to navigate her way through the maze to the other side. The farther from the door they walked, the more that Theron could make out what sounded like fighting. It wasn't the sort of uncontrolled sounds of battle he would expect if they had suddenly been set upon by Howe, but instead it sounded like orders were being yelled which directly resulted in the ringing of steel on steel. They rounded a corner and he saw the reason for the minor confusion. The men that had been recruited so far to the Highever cause were out in the yard practicing drills in what would normally have been small fields of produce to be tended by the house keepers.

Undeterred by the fact that they were in the middle of drills, Kallian strode straight up to the man calling the orders. He paused to listen to her for a moment, chuckled at something she had to say, then ordered the other soldiers to take a break. Theron got close enough in time to hear him say "Just pick somebody's knives and have at it. I'll try and keep them from setting bets."

Looking pleased with herself, Kallian thanked the man and shot Theron an alluring smile, something he was entirely unused to seeing the rough-and-tumble elf do which immediately set him on edge.

"Ready to get beat pretty boy?" She asked with that same smile, walking over to a small cluster of soldiers that had gathered near the training square.

Rolling his eyes at her theatrics, Theron simply waited until she had cowed the soldiers into handing over their weapons. After inspecting the blades, she tossed a couple Theron's way and they stuck in the dirt near his feet. Reaching down, he tested their balance briefly before judging them worthy. "You're turning this into quite the show."

"Well yeah." Kallian snorted, taking another two short swords for herself, swinging them experimentally. "It's not everyday you get to fight a Warden. And beat him. Don't forget the beating part."

Unable to restrain the urge to roll his eyes again, Theron sank into a defensive position, placing his feet carefully and began to tune out the crowd. "If you think that I'm going to let you win then you're sadly mistaken."

"Tch! I would be offended if you didn't try your hardest!" Kallian replied with a wide grin, twisting her swords in a short display of dexterity then got serious, her face blanking. Quicker almost than the eye could follow she darted forward and struck lightly on Theron's blades. He didn't even blink, parrying the test blow automatically and striking back just ask quickly only to meet empty air.

The two circled each other, poised on the balls of their feet and watching one another with an intense concentration. The soldiers intent on their break looked up and began to watch the display as the two faced off, muttering. But neither elf noticed the humans as they talked amongst one another. They were entirely in their own world of action and reaction; there was no space for distraction or mistakes.

Theron moved forward with the next strike, tapping lightly on Kallian's right sword, and that's when the fight really began. Her blade slipped under his, drawing along the side with a screech and thrust forward with the point of her blade only to be turned aside by a striking parry that swept both of her blades to the side. Kallian disengaged, drawing her blades back and ducked underneath a high double sweep, swinging inside Theron's defenses but he was already moving to correct the situation, stepping back with one foot and bringing down both swords to parry aside a short bodily jab and slid his back foot forward and out wide, pivoting around it to come around behind Kallian. She turned on the spot following his movement and blocked with a high cross, stepping inside his reach to lessen the impact of the blow.

They fought back and forth for a while, a constant dance of sweeping and flashing blades, the clash of steel on steel ringing out in twos with an increasing intensity. Around them, the soldiers had gathered in a wide ring, shouting encouragement at their picked favorite, jeers flowing in equal measure when one or the other appeared to be put on the defensive.

But the battle was slowly starting to turn in favor of Theron. His greater reach was beating Kallian when things were starting to come to near-misses. She could dodge expertly enough, but when it came to return the favor her shorter arcs just weren't allowing her to retaliate in kind. The effort made trying to make up for those lost inches was wearing on her faster too, and more and more she found her steps guiding her backwards into a defensive position, closer to the line of soldiers ringing them. Realizing that if she kept fighting fair she would loose, Kallian did the thing that rogues did best: she fought dirty.

She parried a thrust forward, sending Theron's blades out wide but instead of trying to leap forward and attempt a stab at his body she fell back, ducking and grabbing a handful of dirt which she threw straight into his eyes. Sputtering, Theron staggered backwards and tried to wipe the grit out of his face. Taking her opportunity, Kallian surged forward, sure of a victory with her blade heading straight for his navel. Then suddenly the world tilted sideways and it was only after a delayed realization that she figured out Theron had managed to parry her blade aside, followed by a roundhouse kick in the back as her momentum took her past.

Kallian nearly bit the dust, managing to get a palm on the ground and scramble back upright then turned only to see Theron quick on her heels, dirt still clinging to his sweaty skin. She dropped under a high swing that could have taken off her head, crouching low and swinging her foot out wide, tripping Theron up. He dropped to the ground ungracefully, caught off-guard by the tactic and quickly had to push himself sideways out of the way when Kallian's blade came singing through the air at him. He had halfway pushed himself up to his feet when Kallian was on top of him again, and this time he swept his foot out to trip the woman up. She nearly avoided it, but his foot caught the inside of hers as she tried to jump out of the way and her momentum sent her falling straight onto Theron. They grappled in the dirt for a few terse seconds, kicking up dirt and dust as they tried to figure out whose limbs were where and where the other's sword had ended up. At one point Theron was sure that Kallian had slugged him in the jaw, though wasn't sure whether she'd done it with her fist or a sword hilt.

The fight ended suddenly when Theron pinned Kallian's shoulder, the flat of his blade pressed hard against her neck. For the span of a few ragged breaths he was sure that he'd won, then he felt a steady pressure against his stomach and looked down to see the length of Kallian's blade there, angled so that if she had given any pressure he would like have been sliced open from rib to opposite hip. He sat back on his knees and allowed Kallian to get up as well, the two of them staring at each other.

Kallian rubbed her nose to get the dirt off, but only succeeded in wiping more on, then started giggling. Theron, equally as dirty and tousled from their roll on the ground startled chuckling as well, and soon both elves were laughing like they'd just been told the funniest joke in the world. Kallian let both of her blades drop, holding her stomach and ribs, tears forming in the corner of her eyes from laughing so hard and Theron leaned back on his hands, seemingly laughing at the sky.

The soldiers, a little disappointed that there was no clear winner and confused now that the two had started laughing like idiots muttered to themselves and started to disband, seeing that the fun was over which probably meant that they would have to get back to work.

Eventually, Theron got control over himself and Kallian was reduced to the occasional giggle. Standing, he offered Kallian a hand up and when they were both on their feet she started to try and pretend to clean herself off, patting down her pants in great clouds of dust.

"I'll tell you what Warden." She said, her words light and breathy, still a bit winded from fighting then having the laugh attack. "You're alright by me."

"I suppose that's a compliment, right?" He couldn't resist asking, though was unable to be annoyed as was typical of his character, the physical exertion putting him in a good mood. It had been a while since he'd had a serious fight that wasn't life-or-death. Alistair was a terrible looser, and Zevran always made things awkward with double entendres and the amazing ability to cut off his opponent's clothing without harming his opponent in the process.

"The best." She entered the estate again through the nearest door that would take them through the grand ballroom, a residual smile plastered on her face. The two walked in peace until they got to the foyer, where Solona saw them and very nearly had a fit.

"What _happened_ to you?" The mage gasped, emerging from the dining rooms with an apron on, a generous amount of white flour dusting her hair and a smudge in the middle of her forehead.

Kallian looked down at herself then at Theron and shrugged. "Had a fight."

Solona remained unimpressed. "With _what?_ A pile of dirt? Were you rolling around outside or something? You're a _mess_."

Theron didn't even bother holding back his laugh, dusting some dirt out of his hair with a flick of his hands. "You have no idea how true that is."

"And you're not exactly clean either." Kallian replied with a raised eyebrow, gesturing at Solona's flour-covered clothing.

She colored slightly at that, but remained mostly undeterred. "At least this just pats out. You're _encrusted_. Encrusted! You need a bath right away, both of you." She didn't even have to voice the warning that she was hearing of nothing else but their unconditional surrender to her demand that they bathe. "I can heat enough water with a spell fairly quickly…" Without waiting to see if they'd follow, Solona started walking toward the residential quarters, muttering dangerously to herself and patting off flour as she walked.

Shrugging in defeat, Kallian followed without protest and Theron trailed a step behind, too afraid of getting lost again to do otherwise.

After getting the two rogues into their rooms and had water brought from the well outside for baths, Solona started back toward the kitchen. Honestly, she'd never cooked a day in her life, but she had made plenty of other magical concoctions, and it was more or less the same theory. Rebecca was there to make sure she didn't burn anything anyway, as well as any number of the Highever elves that were manning the kitchens. They probably worked better without her there gumming up the system, but Solona was determined to help out somehow as a show of good faith if nothing else.

Just as she was about to enter the foyer, Aedan suddenly appeared from around the corner and nearly ran into her, looking over his shoulder like he was expecting someone unpleasant to appear there.

"Aedan? What are you-"

"Shhh!" Without warning he grabbed Solona by the arm and dragged her into the storage closet located next to Rebecca's room and shut the door.

Now stuck between a shelf full of who only knew what and a cluster of brooms, Solona was past the point of confused. "Aedan, what in the Maker's name is going _on?_"

"It's that elf." He replied unhelpfully, little more than a disembodied voice in the darkness of the closet except for the gentle pressure of his hand on Solona's arm.

She rolled her eyes, but the effect was lost in the blackness. "You're going to have to be more specific."

He grumbled something unintelligible, and she could sense him making some sort of gesture with his free hand. "The one that came with the Wardens. Facial tattoo?"

"Oh." That definitely rung a bell, for the blonde elf had made a point of flirting with anyone that made eye contact with him, and Solona had been one of those that had accidentally looked him in the eye when she said hello.

"It's worse than 'oh'. Much worse."

"What are you _talking_ about?" She asked, her tone now bordering on exasperation. Mostly, the mage wanted to know why he had thought that it was necessary to shove her in a closet. He was acting entirely too strange.

"He knows." Aedan's voice was oddly distraught, the two words conveying an entire world of unsaid grievances.

Solona waited for him to elaborate, and when he didn't she reached out and grabbed onto the first part of him she could get in the darkness, her fingers brushing against the material of his shirt. "Knows what?"

"That I don't like him."

It was such an odd thing to say that at first Solona wasn't sure if she should bang her head against the wall in frustration or laugh. "Why don't you like him?"

"I'm sure he's a very nice… assassin…" She felt Aedan shift uncomfortably, obviously very bothered by the elf's attitude. "But he keeps… _flirting_ with me. Giving me looks on the sly. And he _knows_ that I'm not interested, but _he keeps doing it._"

Solona couldn't help it anymore. She laughed at him, at the whole predicament, and leaned against the shelves for support, tugging on Aedan's shirt weakly. "You're scared off by an _assassin_ not because he could kill you with his bare feet, but because he _flirts_ with you. Oh Aedan…"

"It's not funny." He replied stiffly, shifting again though didn't make any move to try and get her to stop laughing at him. "How would you feel if he was the one flirting with _you_?"

Getting her breath back Solona couldn't help but to grin. "Me? Oh, I don't know. I wouldn't run away though, that's for sure." She could almost see him glaring at her in the darkness and couldn't help snorting again with barely restrained laughter at the mental image. "You're hiding in a _closet-_"

"Shhh!" Suddenly Aedan pressed his hand against her mouth and his whole body landed against hers, holding her tightly as he listened for something outside the door. Solona tried to listen too, but could hardly hear whatever it was going on beyond the door over the rush of blood in her ears as the pounding of her heart suddenly spiked in its rhythm.

Aedan was tense as a strung bow, straining his ears to hear what was going on beyond the door. Foot steps, voices, then quiet again. He remained pressed up against Solona until the danger had passed in full, then finally let the poor mage go, backing away with a sigh of relief. "That was a close call-"

In the darkness something shifted and the brooms and mops carefully stacked against the wall fell over. Instinctively Aedan tried to get out of the way but only managed to trip backward over one in the darkness, colliding with the shelves behind him which set off a whole other chain reaction of any number of cleaning supplies falling on and around him. Solona, scared that the shelves would start falling on her as well tried for the door as a means of escape and knocked her knee on a barrel and abruptly sat down on something squishy when one of the falling cleaning supplies knocked the back of her leg.

"Oof!" The squishy something happened to be Aedan's stomach, and having not expected to be sat upon, he lost his breath and almost his lunch all in one go at the sudden impact.

"I'm so sorry!" Solona apologized quickly, scrambling to get to her feet again even as she blinked back tears from the pain in her knee, silent swearing to the Maker that she'd set the damned thing on fire later.

Then light flooded the scene, and blinking like owls the two looked up to see Sticker standing in the doorway. At first he looked like he was ready to kill something, then after realizing who was in the closet causing so much noise, the elf relaxed, cocking an eyebrow and leaned against the door frame. "You know..." He drawled, assuming a bored expression. "…there _are_ safer places to snog than a broom closet."

Solona's face went red, and Aedan became belligerent. "We were not-!"

"Save it!" Sticker cut in quickly with a grin and a wave of his hand. "I just wish the boss was here. She'd get a kick out of this. Been trying to hook you-"

"It's really not like that!" This time it was Solona who cut in abruptly, narrowing her eyes dangerously at Sticker. "Aedan was just in here because Zevran-"

"_He's_ in here too?" Now Sticker really was bewildered, and perhaps a little impressed, cocking his head to try and catch a glimpse of the Antivian underneath all of the fallen cleaning supplies. "Didn't think you swung for men. Or Elves. Or both put together. Surprises all around today."

"_Enough._" Exasperated by the fact that Sticker seemed to be twisting everything they said on purpose, Aedan leveled his best murderous glare at the elf. By that time Solona had managed to get to her feet and was rubbing her injured knee, her hands glowing briefly to relieve the pain that knocking it had caused. "I am _not _into men."

"Oh?" Amused that his little game was progressing so well, Sticker grinned and straightened slightly, his hand on the open door now. "Prove it."

Aedan paused half-way between getting to his feet and stared at the elf like he had been asked to walk across water and summon Andraste out of thin air. "What?"

"Prove it." Grinning even wider, Sticker leaned forward slightly, his tone filled with challenge. "There's a girly right here." He jerked his thumb at Solona, who looked horror struck by the turn of events.

"What? No! I'm not going to kiss her to prove to you that I wasn't here for Zevran." Aedan's face had gone red with a blush but he seemed no less determined.

"Ah, can't cow you, I see." Sticker shrugged in apparent acceptance, but there was a look on his face that very clearly said he was not going to drop the matter. "Though it does make a funny story. A Teyrn waiting in a closet for his elf lover."

Aedan's eyes went wide. "Are you threatening to blackmail me?"

Sticker did his best to try and look innocent. "Your words, not mine."

Sighing, Solona turned abruptly to Aedan. "Look, he's not going to leave us alone until he's had his fun. Just do it and we can all resume our lives." Though she tried to say it as nonchalantly as possible, inside she was squirming. This was such a stupid situation and she had half a mind to try and pull rank on the elf, but quickly realized that even if she brought Kallian into this that there was no way she was going to win. Kallian would undoubtedly side with Sticker and probably even condone his behavior, rewarding him for a job well done.

"W-what?" Aedan sputtered, caught off guard by the idea that Solona was actually consenting to go along it this. "But it's so-" He was about to say 'indecent' then remembered what Kallian had said. Solona was in love with him. All sorts of moral questions popped up then. Would it be right to possibly encourage the mage by agreeing? One look at Sticker's eager expression and he realized that there was little choice in the matter if he didn't want outrageous rumors of his sordid love affair with an Antivian assassin spread all over Denerim.

"Fine."

Sticker looked absolutely pleased with this turn of events, but a look at Solona out of the corner of his eye had her pegged as downright embarrassed though she covered that up pretty quickly and had her game face on, looking more like she was ready to go to battle than get a kiss.

Right. Quick and painless.

Steeling himself, Aedan held the mage's forearms lightly and bent his head, pausing a small distance away. Her calm façade wavered and she closed her eyes, visibly tensing herself, then he kissed her.

It wasn't overly long or especially passionate, Aedan keeping in mind the whole time that there was an audience to this display, but all the same he felt a peculiar twisting in his chest. When he pulled away, Solona's eyes slid open again and she pinned him with a look, and he felt his body still. It was just like that time when they had first met, inexplicably frozen by the magic of her eyes alone.

Suddenly she turned and swept out of the closet, game face on again. "Happy now Sticker?" She asked, not bothering to stop in case he said no.

"Eh, it'll do." The elf shrugged, chuckling and patted Aedan heartily on the forearm. "Good job Basher." Grinning, he left the stunned human where he was on the threshold of the closet and headed back out into the foyer to ruin someone else's day.

Now standing by himself half buried by fallen brooms and buckets, Aedan rubbed his jaw and leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, looking down at the floor in pensive thought. He should have been more angry about the situation, but a quick assessment of himself and Aedan came to the very firm decision that he was most certainly not angry. Embarrassed, but not angry, and that was odd enough by itself. But added to the string of mysteries was this his heart was beating abnormally fast, and a strange almost giddy sensation had taken root deep in a section of his emotional well that he was sure had died with Highever.

•º•.•º•

Cobert was not normally a man given to wild abandonment of social protocol. He was an earthy man far along in his years that had seen far too much of life to get overly excited about little things. However, the man was hobbling along at a near running pace, asking everyone who he came across where the young lord had gotten off to. After receiving a mixed report, he finally ended up on the second floor outside of Aedan's room and rapped on it three times, clutching a battered envelope to his chest. His presence here would probably be frowned upon, but given the circumstance, he didn't particularly care.

Surprised to see Cobert standing at his door, Aedan at first didn't know what to say. He expected maybe Kallian to saunter up and threaten to hang him for what had happened in the closet, or else come to gloat. Perhaps even Solona, though he wasn't sure what she would come to say or how he would handle it. But the wizened groundskeeper was definitely low on his list of people that he expected to see, especially flustered as he was. "Yes? Has something happened?" He asked, expecting to get a lecture about keeping Keran in check. The two mabari had probably been tearing up the garden something fierce.

"Your Grace," Cobert gave a bobbing bow of respect, then held out the grubby envelope "You should see this." He said, waving it closer until Aedan took it from his hands with a curious raise of his eyebrow. "It's from my granddaughter. She works as a maid in Highever, ser."

The groundskeeper waited patiently while Aedan opened the already unsealed envelope. Two letters were inside, both on cheap parchment but one far more considerably weather beaten and looked like it had been wadded up and smoothed out again. He read the newer looking one on top first, sorting out the messy scrawl quickly and went still. The letter was from Cobert's granddaughter, it was true, but that wasn't what had him reading the second paragraph over and over again. He nearly dropped the first letter and the envelope to get to the second one, opening it with a snap and immediately recognized the neat flowing letters that comprised the letter. It was from Fergus.

_Oriana,_

_My love, I write this letter to tell you that I am still alive, though only by the Maker's hand. We were assaulted by a band of darkspawn on the way to Ostagar, and through some miracle I managed to survive when the Chasind took me in. I was grievously wounded, and if not for those folk I would most certainly be dead. I've healed well enough and am currently in Gwaren living off what coin I had with me when I left Highever. I would petition Teyrn Loghain for a place to stay and perhaps an escort to make my way back to you, but it seems that he's left the Tyernir and taken everyone of relative importance with him to Denerim. Word is slow here so far south with the wild Brecilian blocking the city from most land trade, but I have heard of what befell Ostagar. I suppose I am lucky that I was accosted before that battle; else I would most likely have shared that fate._

_Tell my brother that I'm all right, and any news concerning the fate of our father and Arl Howe would be greatly appreciated. In the meantime, I'll see what can be done about leaving Gwaren. I'm doing no good here stranded like this. Give my love to Oren._

_With all my heart,_

_Fergus_

Oh Fergus. Aedan chocked back a wealth of sadness, knowing that when his brother had written this there was no way for him to know that it would remain unanswered. Oriana would never be writing him a letter again. He cleared his voice before attempting to speak, but even then his throat was constricted with emotion. "Did Howe get a hold of this letter?" He asked, holding up the battered and crumpled parchment that Fergus had written on.

Corbert hesitated, his eyes sad, and Aedan knew what was coming before he even said it. "That's what my granddaughter was trying to tell me, yong master. She found the letter in the Arl's study. He knows."

Whatever hope he had of finding his brother alive still sank with those softly uttered words, and Aedan felt them dropping to the bottom of his stomach like a cold stone. Shuffling the first letter to the top, he read the last half, the damning words there clearly.

…_he sent some soldiers to Gwaren. I heard him talking about hiring assassins, but I couldn't stay long enough to hear the whole conversation. I wish that I had found the letter sooner, before the Arl could get his hands on it. I pray to the Maker every day that Master Fergus will remain safe and that he will be too clever to be caught..._

With shaking hands, Aedan handed the girl's letter back to Corbert, though kept Fergus' for himself. "Thank you for bringing me this news." He said, folding the letter in his hands carefully.

"Always, my lord." The groundskeeper gave a short bow, then shuffled down the hall at a much slower pace than how he'd gotten up here, leaving Aedan to his own devices.

•º•.•º•

The door was mocking her, she was sure of it. If it had a mouth, it would be laughing right now, taunting her. Damned door. She would kick it, but she was too afraid to go near it, some lingering thought telling her that the moment she got too close someone would open it up and drag her down into the basement, never to see the light of day again. Why, _why_ did they decide the throw the party in the basement? Kallian was well aware that parties could get loud and that they didn't want to draw any undo attention, but really. Couldn't they have gone outside, just this once?

"You must have eaten something sour to hold such an expression."

Whipping around, Kallian came face to face with Theron, the taller elf standing almost right next to her and looking down with a mildly curious expression on his face. He had cleaned up from their scuffle, the only evidence of their fight being a bruise on his jaw where she had punched him. He was also barefooted, an irregularity that Kallian was curious about but decided not to comment on, deciding that it was probably a Dalish thing, but otherwise was clothed normally in a brown shirt that was a bit on the large side (probably made for a human) and soft brown pants.

Kallian had dressed in a similarly casual fashion, though she was wearing her boots seeing as they were the only pair of shoes she had and had let her trademark braid hang loose to facilitate her hair drying. "No, that's not it." She replied with a pout and crossed her arms over her chest. She didn't really want to explain that she was terrified of basements, but Theron's presence was going to make that hard.

"So, what are you waiting for?" He asked, his voice drawling with that peculiar Dalish accent and headed for the door. "Leliana promised that she had found some instruments hidden around the estate and put together a band. If she's in charge of music, then you really don't want to miss it."

Still, Kallian didn't budge. "I just… I really can't."

Theron turned and examined her closely, noting the hint of fear in her voice. Retracing his steps he went back to standing just in front of Kallian, but she wouldn't meet his eyes. "Are you… scared?"

"No!" The denial was instantaneous, Kallian's eyes flaring with anger. "I ain't a coward!"

"I never said you were." He replied calmly, dark eyes flicking over the features of her face. Theron knew that Kallian was the type to put on a brave face, but it was odd to see it crumbling when faced with the prospect of going down the stairs, and for the life of him he couldn't fathom why. He hated being indoors as much as the next Dalish, but he didn't lock up and freeze when asked to delve into a basement, even if it was filled with bandits or werewolves or what-have-you. To see a city elf afraid of being indoors absolutely boggled his mind. "I don't understand."

Sighing, Kallian rubbed the bridge of her nose with her thumb, putting her free hand on her hip. "I just… look. I spent some time locked up in a dungeon, all right? Remember what I said 'bout the shems not bein' nice to elves who couldn't pay the fee? I got personal experience."

The short explanation suddenly cleared up a lot of unknowns about the elf, and yet Theron was still puzzled. He had been to the downstairs of this estate. It looked very little like any of the dungeons that he had been in. The furnishings were sparse, but they weren't grim. It was a holding place for soldiers, not for prisoners, and the elves that had taken up residence down there had gone to great lengths to spruce the place up for their own enjoyment, and even more for the celebration that was supposed to begin in a few moments. "What are you afraid is going to happen?"

She spared him a long look, then her gaze flicked to the door and she clenched her fists. "I don't know." It was a lie. She knew precisely what she was afraid of happening. Images of Vaughn's ugly face flashed in front of her eyes and she shivered, remembering the chill of the cold floor. "Look, I just can't-"

"Can't is another word for won't." Theron replied, pinning her with a stubborn glance. "Come with me. Everybody is waiting, and they probably want you to give a speech."

Her heart sank. She was terrible at speeches. "I'll come down on my own time."

"Meaning never?" He shot back, deliberately goading Kallian now. It had worked fine enough to entice her into a sparring mach. Maybe poking at her legendary vanity would work now. "Maybe you _are_ a coward."

Kallian's face colored with instantaneous rage, and she swung her balled fist at Theron, only to have him dodge out of the way. "I ain't no bloody coward, pretty boy! Do I have to beat you again? 'Cuz I will."

"Firstly it was a draw." Theron replied with a grin, on the balls of his feet just out of striking distance. "Secondly, I don't see you going down those stairs any quicker, _coward_."

As she saw it, there were three choices. One, chase down Theron and beat in his face until he begged for her forgiveness. As appealing as that was, she knew that she'd never be able to catch him with his longer legs. Two, storm off after giving the blonde elf a piece of her mind, which was slightly less appealing because in the end he would still have won the argument. Or three actually go down the stairs. Looking at the door she swallowed, trying to fight down her nervousness, which was slowly overtaking her anger. Maker help her.

With a determined stride that was all show and no heart, Kallian stomped over to the door, put her hand on the handle and swung it wide open, then stood there and stared. She could hear lively chatter coming from down the stairwell and the beginnings of some music, which was met with a cheer. She took a step back but ran straight into Theron, her back bumping into his chest.

"Go on." He said, voice amused to no end. "You're blocking the way."

She almost elbowed him for the comment, but was entirely too terrified to try. Gulping, she took her first step down and shuddered. When nobody spontaneously popped out of the wall to grab her, she continued down another step, standing ramrod straight with all senses on high alert. It helped that she could feel Theron right behind her, never more than a couple steps away. When she finally set foot on the bottom stair it was with great relief and she was happy to see that it wasn't all dreary and gloomy. Paper lanterns hung from the rafters everywhere, lighting the space with soft ambient light. Against one side of the wall several tables had been pulled together so that they were flush, creating a waist-high stage upon which the red-headed bard and several elves were playing music, the space created by the mess hall tables being pushed aside used as a dance floor. The mess kitchen was active, Rebecca directing traffic and generally controlling the flow of things with the proficiency of someone extremely experienced with the job. Opposite the ragtag band were the other tables, piled with food and a gathering of those who weren't looking to dance. Among them was Solona, who beamed when she spotted Kallian and waved her over enthusiastically.

"Good job." Theron said with a chuckle, clapping Kallian on the shoulder in passing and headed over to Alistair, who was browsing the bread and cheese section like a kid in a candy store.

Smiling to herself, Kallian joined Solona off to the side and received a massive hug from the mage who was grinning from ear to ear. "I was looking for you." She said after letting go and stepping away from the food table in order to not be constantly bumped by those who were hungry. "I was worried you wouldn't make it down here."

Kallian shrugged, doing her best to not look embarrassed. "I had a little help." Looking around, she noticed that there were any number of humans mixed in with the celebrating elves save for one particular man, and frowned. "Where's Basher? This whole shindig is for him." In the dim light Kallian couldn't be entirely sure, but she thought she saw the mage blush.

"I don't know." Solona replied truthfully, shrugging in as casual of a way as was possible. In truth she had been looking for him too, but had the awful feeling that he wasn't coming down because of what had happened earlier that day. She had tried to play the whole thing off like it didn't concern her in the least, but truth be told her heart had been fluttering ever time she thought of it. The whole thing was a mess…

The song ended and there was much clapping from the dance floor. The band members were offered something to drink, and one elf leapt up onto the stage and started talking animatedly to Leliana who nodded in return. Grinning from ear to ear, the elf jumped down and the bard said something to the band who all seemed to agree. Soon after, Leliana struck a chord and they were off on a happy foot tapping melody.

Kallian perked up the moment she heard it, grabbing Solona's arm. "Well to the Void with waiting! Lets go dance!" She stopped short when Solona resisted the pull, shaking her head.

"I don't know how." The mage admitted, obviously selfconscious.

Kallian gaped. "You don't know the Remigold?"

Again, Solona shook her head. "They don't really teach you how in the Cirlce."

Before the elf could make a rude comment on the educational system of the Circle, Alistair brushed past, dragging along a very reluctant Theron. "…you absolutely must learn it. Just in case we ever have to face off against a horde of darkspawn again."

"_You_ might think that Eamon would order you to put on a dress and start shimmying, but _I_ seriously doubt it." Theron grouched, trying his best to avoid being dragged to the dance floor and failing miserably.

With a grin Kallian turned on the Dalish elf, intent on poking some fun at him. "What, scared to learn a new dance?"

Theron rolled his eyes. "You're not getting me with that."

Abandoning Solona, Kallian took Theron's other arm and helped Alistair usher the reluctant Warden to the dance floor.

Smiling to herself, Solona happily stayed back and watched, following the movement of the three as they tried to show the Dalish elf how to dance while not getting run over by the rest on the dance floor or kicking anybody in the hind quarters. It was interesting to say the least, and she was more than a little jealous that she didn't know any of the dances that had been done so far. Turning away from the frivolity she started looking to see if they'd cracked open a cask of ale yet and caught sight of Aedan finally appearing at the bottom of the stairs. Her heart leapt at the sight of him, but quickly quieted with she got a good look on his face. He seemed… sad, somehow, and instantly she became worried for him. Raising her hand, Solona waved him over and he caught sight of her, wading through the crowd.

"Is something wrong?" She asked when he got close enough that she didn't have to yell.

For a moment he looked like he was going to answer, then he smiled ruefully and turned toward the table, grabbing a heel of bread. "It's not nothing, but there's not much I can do about it. I don't want to spoil the celebration, so I'll tell you afterwards."

Solona gave him a long searching look, but he was revealing very little, casually eating his slice of bread with single-minded determination and watching the movement on the dance floor. He nearly choked on his food when he saw Kallian harassing Theron, literally dancing circles around him while he tried to figure out the basics of the moves. "What in the world…? I didn't know she could dance."

Solona giggled, looking at the pair as well. "Seems they all can."

"Why aren't you out there?" Aedan asked, finishing off his bread and absently looking at the table for more food, in a slightly better mood now that he'd been infected with the party atmosphere.

"I don't know how to dance." She replied with a fidget, clasping her hands behind her back and looking longingly out at the dance floor. "They didn't teach us in the Circle."

The song ended to a huge round of applause, the band members looking thoroughly pleased with themselves as they chatted with one another to decide on the next song. Out on the dance floor, Theron, who was red in the face by now was clapped on the back by an enthusiastic Alistair and laughed at by a very smug looking Kallian before he was allowed to leave with what dignity he had left. When the clapping died down the band struck up again, this time an evenly paced tune meant for pair dancing. Solona watched amused when Kallian tried to turn down Alistair, obviously flustered, but the exuberant man pulled her in anyway, and she followed along reluctantly.

Solona felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see that it was Aedan, a strange sort of smile on his face. "Time to learn." He said simply and gently guided her to the edge of the dance floor. She almost protested, then simply let herself be carried along. Aedan was probably trying to cope with whatever it was that was bothering him, and she really did want to learn how to dance.

Once out on the floor Aedan gave her a short bow and she clumsily curtsied in return like she'd seen others on the dance floor do. He offered an encouraging smile and held out his hand. "Just follow my lead. This one's easy." A tad nervous, Solona did as he asked and let him put his hand on her waist, gently guiding her through the steps. "It's one-two-three, one-two-three, right, right, left, left. There, that's good."

She couldn't help but to smile, keeping her eyes on the floor in order not to step all over his feet and laughed when she messed up, Aedan automatically correcting for the mistake. "Now you're going to change partners, just take his hand." She was handed off to an elf, joining a wide circle that she hadn't noticed forming before and did her best to copy the other women as they wove in and out between the men, passing with a touch of hands, and then suddenly she was back in Aedan's arms again, the whole process starting over. By the time it was all over she was breathless and giggly and clapped for the band when the final chord was struck.

Someone hauled Kallian up to the stage and everyone went quiet, waiting for her to give a speech. She looked nervous being up in front of so many people, but cleared her throat and put on her _I'm in charge_ face. "Alright everyone, this here shindig tonight is fer Aedan, turning another year!" There was a short cheer and some clapping, and some of the elves turned to look and give congratulations. "Now lets get this celebration started for real! Unleash the kegs!"

At that an enthusiastic cheer filled the whole basement and as one everyone turned to see that the kitchen staff were rolling out said kegs, tapped them, and then the party really got underway. The band struck up again, this one a common tavern song and quickly enough the majority of the party was singing along to the song. The night passed in a rowdy fashion, everyone slowly getting more and more drunk as the night went on and it got darker outside. At one point there was a dance off where a slightly drunk Alistair had taken a not nearly drunk enough Wynne as his partner and was pitted against a tipsy Kallian dragging a very sober Theron around the dance floor. There was practically a riot with all of the clapping and yelling, the crowd far more exuberant than before under the influence of the alcohol.

In the middle of all the chaos Solona and Aedan managed to successfully sneak up the stairs together, escaping the rowdy crowd below and all the noise they caused. Once up the stairs, Solona took Aedan's hands in a parody of their previous dancing, spinning around in the empty foyer and giggling in an obviously tipsy way having taken her share of the ale downstairs. Humoring her, Aedan followed, though he was similarly inebriated and nearly tripped her up a couple of times, which resulted in more laughter.

"We should do this all the time." Solona said, letting go of his hands and continued walking, leading the way out into the gardens behind the estate and breathed deeply from the cool night air, so different than the stuffy crowded atmosphere from downstairs. Here the only sound was the gentle breeze and occasional barking of dogs from over the high wall that surrounded the estate along with the trickling of water from the fountain deeper in the garden. "We don't have nearly enough fun."

Snorting, Aedan took the lead, following the wall of rose bushes in a memorized path that lead to the gazebo at the garden's heart. "We'd run out of ale in a fortnight."

"They do drink a lot, don't they?" Solona asked with a chuckle, weaving along at Aedan's side unsteadily, reaching out and grabbing his arm suddenly when she nearly tripped over thin air. "And I do too!"

Laughing, he held the mage steady and helped her right herself again, making sure she was properly sat on one of the gazebo benches before letting go and sprawling out on a second bench opposite of Solona's. "This is nothing like the normal parties that are thrown."

"Is that such a bad thing?" Solona asked with a wide smile, tracing the wood grain of the bench with her fingers. "I haven't had this much fun in… ever!" Leaning forward, she dropped her voice to a conspirator's whisper. "I've only been drunk once. Me 'an some friends made moonshine once out of potatoes. It was terrible!" She sat back suddenly and laughed loudly until she was out of breath, and Aedan couldn't help but to grin in response.

He tilted his head back and looked up at the starry sky, the night clear for the first time in a week. His mind wandered back to other nights that he had spent out here in the garden, playing with Fergus when they were young boys avoiding Rebecca and her blasted enforced bed times, and he immediately thought back to the letter that Cobert had given him earlier that afternoon. "My brother's alive." He said suddenly, still looking up at the silent stars.

Catching her breath, Solona cocked her head. "Say what?"

"I got a letter from Fergus." He said, and righted himself a little, looking across the way at Solona. "He's alive. He survived Ostagar and sent a letter."

Solona brightened up at that and stood from her bench, weaving her way unsteadily to where Aedan sat and plopped down, staring at him eagerly. "That's great news! We're gonna go get him, right? And then he can come with us, and we'll go storm the castle and kill the bad guy!"

He smiled at her simplification of the situation and reached out, putting his hand on the top of her head. "Yeah, if I knew where he was, I'd go get him."

She cocked her head, staring cross-eyed at his wrist for a second before focusing again on Aedan's face. "You don't know where he's gone? He's missing?" Aedan nodded, which caused Solona to puff out her cheeks with a determined look on her face and took Aedan's hand off her head, holding it with both hands. "Then we gotta find him! He's all you got left, right? Him an' Keran, an' that's it! If my brother was wandering around somewhere, I'd go find him, so you have to too, alright?" She was full of righteous fury now, and stood quickly, very nearly dragging Aedan along with her, still holding his hand tightly. "I'll go get Kallian, an' we'll go _now_. No time to waste!"

Standing as well, Aedan had a good long laugh at her fervor, tugging his hand back until she paid attention, looking slightly angry at him for laughing at her. "Thanks for caring." He said earnestly, glad that the mage took such personal interest in solving his problems immediately, even if she was drunk.

"I always care!" Solona replied, pouting, and put his hand on her chest so his palm was just over her collarbone, his fingers on her neck. "You saved my life. So I'm always gonna care about you, no matter what. I'll be there."

The heartfelt admission warmed him and without thinking about possible consequences or ramifications, Aedan pulled Solona close and kissed her for the second time that day. If she was surprised or cared, she didn't respond negatively, squeezing his hand gently before letting go and wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling herself up on her toes and giving in completely, beyond the point where a sober mind would have told her to quit and pull away. The two were utterly wrapped up in each other, totally unaware of the world beyond the feeling of just being with another person, all inhibitions set aside to make way for half a years worth of secrets and hidden feelings all suddenly flushed to the surface.

Overhead the stars kept a silent vigil.

* * *

><p>AN: And then Aedan woke up the next morning and realized to his great dismay that it had all been a wet dream 8D<p>

Maaaaaaaassive chapter! Because I love you! Also, because the fight scene with Kallian and Theron was just too fun. It was so prim and proper until Kallian started loosing, then it was just all down hill from there. But all in all I wanted to fit in as many suggestions as I could, and the idea just got away from me and escalated from there. Again, I want to thank everyone for their support, and if you didn't see your suggestion in here, I'm **probably** saving it for later~ Cheers!


	28. Aftermath

**THERE WAS A MISPRINT LAST CHAPTER! For any of you that read "Celebration" on Friday, I mistakenly had Oghren at the party. The Orzammar quest has NOT BEEN COMPLETED YET. Sorry for the confusion! The error has been fixed. That is all!**

* * *

><p>Morning in Denerim broke with a dull light, the entire city blanketed with a thick cover of fog and low-lying clouds that made the rays of the rising sun weak. Still, despite the dreary gray things progressed as normal. The gates opened up to allow traders to enter the market place, the square becoming noisier directly proportional to the amount of people that filled it. The Highever estate was quiet as well save for a small number of elves that left the building and exited the property out of the small side-door instead of the perpetually locked main gate.<p>

Only one thing wasn't normal this morning, and Keran was already on the trail of getting to the bottom of it.

The two-leggeds had been making a lot of noise last night, and though it was fun to play around with them while they were moving about and drinking, eventually the big mabari had gotten tired of all the attention and gone upstairs to sleep, worn from his day of playing in the yard with Falonfen. However, after all of the two-leggeds downstairs had quieted down and finally gone to bed in the wee hours of the morning, his master hadn't come up to his room. It was morning, and the man was still nowhere to be found. Curious, the hound now had his nose pressed to the ground, trying to sniff out where his master had gotten.

Eventually he found himself outdoors near the garden where the scents were much less confusing and exciting, the traffic out here lighter than they were indoors. Trotting through the garden, Keran found his master sprawled out on a bench under the gazebo, the smaller female that had been with them for some time laying directly on top of him, her arms crossed over his chest and head resting there.

Huffing quietly, the dog made his way up and started licking his master's face. It was time to get up, and he was hungry.

At first Aedan didn't react at all to the mabari, then he woke with a sudden start, pushing the dog away and wiping his face with his sleeve. His muddled mind registered that there was something heavy laying on him, and looking down he tried unsuccessfully to figure out what it was. Through the haze of his hangover it took a long minuet for his tired brain to realize that he was looking at the top of someone's head, and even longer for him to figure out who it was. "Oh Maker." He breathed, now trying desperately to remember what had happened between them last night. His memories were pretty good until about his third mug of ale, and from there on everything was a hazy disjointed blur. He was relieved to see that both of them were clothed, so unless he had been coherent enough to get undressed then re-dressed in last night's state of inebriation, then he could be decently sure that they hadn't gone too far.

Roused by his moving, Solona seemed to wake a little, squeezing her eyes shut against the diffused light of the morning and shivering with the chill that the fog brought. She shifted to make herself more comfortable, burying her face further against her arms and Aedan's chest then apparently started going back to sleep, shifting her hips one last time to get more comfortable between his legs.

Silently Aedan was spitting curses, using all the ones he knew and a few that he'd heard Kallian use when he started to run out. Dear Maker, all of her moving around wasn't helping any. He put his hands on her shoulders and tried to shake her awake, but she squirmed again and groaned, reluctant to wake up and mumbled as much. Delving for a sense of calm, Aedan tried not to simply throw her onto the floor. "Solona, you have to get up." He muttered through clenched teeth, shaking her again for good measure.

She opened her eyes and stared at him for a moment, then closed them again, a small smile settling on her face. "Good morning Aedan." She said dreamily. Silence stretched for a couple of seconds, then her eyes snapped open, a look of panic crossing her face. She got up with surprising quickness, flailed around and uttered half-spoken apologies then promptly fell over, hitting the wood boards of the gazebo with a loud _thunk_. Groaning loudly, she held her head, eyes squeezed shut. "What _happened_?" She hissed, fighting back a wave of nausea as her hangover headache hit her full blast, her head throbbing in double time.

Leaning over the side, Aedan took a few calming breaths, was licked on the nose by Keran and swatted at the dog again. "I honestly don't know." He replied, wiping his face with his sleeve again in a futile attempt to get the dog slobber off. Only the part of his body that Solona was laying on had been spared from being covered in dew from the morning fog. Shivering with the chill of the morning now that Solona wasn't keeping him warm, he wanted nothing more than to be alone to sort everything out, preferably in a bath that was warm.

Cracking an eye open, Solona looked up at him for a few seconds. "Why are we outside?" She asked weakly, rubbing her temples with glowing hands, massaging away the worst of her headache so that she could at least move without the world spinning and going dark around the edges, though it would probably take some time to recover from the night's events in full.

"I don't know." Aedan replied, considering standing up before deciding that it would be a bad idea for more than one reason. "How much do you remember?"

Chuckling once Solona sat up and got her bearings, eventually deciding that they were out behind the estate in the rose garden. "I remember learning how to waltz." She replied, internally searching her memories to try and pinpoint when they'd made it outside. "I stepped on your feet a lot, and I remember you saying that the song wasn't really a waltz anyway."

Aedan did remember that, and his feet started hurting like they had suddenly remembered too. By that point he'd been so far gone that he hadn't particularly cared that the meter for the song was completely wrong for a waltz. Then he got a flash of Solona's body pressed against him and stilled. "I think… we kissed. Again, I mean."

Almost reluctantly Solona met his eyes, worried that he would look repulsed by the idea, but his expression was carefully neutral. "Well, we were pretty drunk." She plastered on her best smile, trying to make it seem real and turned her face away, slowly getting to her feet through a wave of dizziness.

She didn't see him frown at the forced dismissal, and sitting up on the bench he very nearly called her on her bluff but Solona started talking first.

"Sorry, I'm going to go in and see if there's anything left to eat. You should go in too." Without looking back she practically ran away, rounding the corner before he could get a word in and was gone.

Keran whined, nudging Aedan's knee with his snout. Dropping a hand on the dog's broad head, he smiled ruefully at the canine. "How is it that I understand you better, and you don't even talk?" Keran whined as his response and Aedan snorted. "I suppose I better get you fed, huh?"

Barking enthusiastically, Keran started ahead first, eager for food and halted looking expectantly over his shoulder to where Aedan was still sitting, apparently in a state of deep contemplation and glaring at his lap. "Maybe in a couple of minuets."

•º•.•º•

For the first time in her life she finally understood why it was called a "mess hall". There was simply no better way to describe it, and Kallian sighed at the thought that she would have to help get the place clean again. Maybe she could pull rank and say that she as leader had more important things to do than mop up vomit, but the acidic glare that Rido shot her when she tried for a stealthy escape meant that she wasn't going to get away with it for very long.

Sighing, she found a section of the mess hall that was more or less vomit-free and started moving tables back into place. Half of the estate residents weren't even up yet, recovering still from their hangovers. Kallian had a bit of a pounding head as well, but with a cousin like Shianni, a person started to build up a tolerance for strong drink. So it was that she came to be on dawn duty.

By the time that she and three others had managed to get all of the tables back into place they had been joined by others roused by the noise they had been making and started to help. Seeing that they were more or less done, Kallian snuck upstairs, making herself scarce before anyone could stop her. Breathing the scent of fresh air not tainted by ale, vomit and sweat (the trademarks of any decently thrown party), Kallian headed back to her own room in hopes that she might grab a quick nap and hopefully sleep off the rest of her hangover since she hadn't seen Solona about. Actually, she hadn't seen her at all last night after the third time the Remigold was played…

Curious, she started poking around, realizing that Aedan had gone missing too, which made her search that much harder. Usually people who disappeared together during a party stayed missing until they turned up disheveled in a corner mostly naked. She could only hope that was the state that she found the two in.

Her quest was cut short however when she ran into Theron almost literally, the taller elf still barefoot and looking as lost as ever. Shaking her head, Kallian sighed and rolled her eyes up toward the ceiling. This guy was supposed to defeat the Blight? Maker help them… he couldn't find his way through a dungeon if he were being lead by the hand. "Where are you tryin' to get to?" She asked in a deadpan, still holding onto the hope that she might be able to turn the estate upside down before the imagined Aedan and Solona in her head could get themselves decent.

Theron snorted at her mildly insulting way of offering help. "I'm not _trying_ to get anywhere." He replied and glanced over Kallian's shoulder briefly, his attention obviously elsewhere. "I'm looking for Alistair and Aedan. We were supposed to finish what we started yesterday this morning, but I haven't seen either…"

"Oh!" Well, that cheered her up. If they were looking for the same people, then maybe there was a chance after all. "I was lookin' fer Basher too. You can come with, so as you don't get lost." She grinned at him, openly teasing the Warden for his lack of indoor navigating skills.

He frowned at the jest and glanced down the hall again. "That still leaves Alistair." Theron took a short breath and put his fingers to his lips then whistled loudly, a sharp shrill sound, then simply waited for a moment or two. Right as Kallian was about to ask what that was all about, the answer came streaking around the corner, all wagging tongue and slobber.

Theron knelt and the mabari halted in front of the elf, wagging his tail and looking incredibly happy to see him. Grinning, Theron scratched the dog behind the ears roughly, and then held his face, looking straight into the dog's eyes. "Find Alistair." He said slowly, and then let go. "Understand?"

The mabari barked three times, wagged his tail, and then took off running in the opposite direction.

"Think he actually understood that?" Kallian asked, skeptical. She knew that Keran was insanely intelligent for a dog, and had heard any number of legends about a mabari's ability to think and reason and understand its human counterparts, but she thought that for the most part it was an exaggerated fishwife's tale meant to impress enemies.

Theron nodded, watching after the spot where the dog had disappeared a moment longer before returning his attention to Kallian. "I do. He's found any number of strange things along our journey. Finding a friend shouldn't be all that hard. And he can follow his nose." Shooting Kallian a sly grin, he started back toward the stairs that would lead to the upper level. "You will be sitting in again, right?" He asked over his shoulder.

Sighing, Kallian followed. "Yeah, I _suppose_. You boys are practically useless 'round Denerim without me, so I might as well be there to help ya'll plan this great escape and homecoming parade." She paused when they were at the foot of the staircase, looking both ways before speaking up. "We still need to find Basher."

"No, I'm here."

Turning sharply, Kallian saw that he was indeed right there, but her eyebrow arched high when she took in his physical state, wondering where he'd slept last night to be in such a condition. He was obviously suffering from a hangover headache with the way the he squinted at any light, and his hair was a tousled mess. His clothes were rumpled and damp around the edges, like he'd been thrown in a body of water and was only now mostly dried after the experience. Whistling, Kallian crossed her arms over her shoulders and leaned back on her heels slightly. "What happened to _you_?"

Irritably, Aedan waved off the question, rubbing his face and ran both of his hands through his hair, straightening the untidy mess somewhat with the motion. "Fell asleep outside." He replied in clipped tones, blinking like an owl in the relatively dim light of the hallway. As if just realizing that the both of them were standing there, he stared first at Kallian then at Theron before his face visibly registered remembrance and he sighed. "Right. Meeting. I'd forgotten…"

A rumbling bark came from around the corned and all three looked to see Falonfen rushing back, though Aedan did so with a grimace, the large dog's loud bark setting his head to pounding. Trailing behind was a rumpled but otherwise whole looking Alistair bar a defined slobber mark on his sleeve where the Mabari had obviously been dragging him along with his mouth.

Theron sighed when he noticed the way that Alistair stumbled slightly, the elf shaking his head. "Was I the only one that stayed sober last night?"

Both Kallian and Alistair nodded, saying, "Yes" and "Probably" at the same time, then glanced at each other and had a quick laugh at Theron's expense who only rolled his eyes at the two.

Equally not amused but for a different reason, Aedan started heading up the stairs. "Lets get this over with, then."

•º•.•º•

She might lie to others, but she couldn't lie to herself. Solona was avoiding Aedan as best as she could, ducking out of sight if she ever saw him coming down a hallway and generally making herself as scarce as possible. For the most part she did her best to stay out of the common areas and away from her room, think that it was the first place he would check if he was determined to confront her about the night before. Her avoidance tactics including burying herself in the kitchen with the Highever elves, helping them to get things back in order after the chaotic mess of last night. When that was done, she spend a good deal of time just downstairs tending to those suffering from their hangovers and wasted a good portion of the day that way.

When she saw to her last patient, Solona glanced to the stairwell again like she had ever ten minuets or so since coming down here, each time expecting to see Aedan coming down the stairs looking for her. Maybe he'd given up and taken her suggestion. She knew he had a lot of things to plan with the Wardens before they headed out that evening to continue their quest. She wasn't entirely certain why they were leaving separately, but she was sure that there was a good reason for it and that everyone was hammering out the details upstairs. She hadn't seen Kallian either, and wondered if perhaps the elf was sitting in on the meeting, even though she wasn't going along. It would be just like her. She enjoyed knowing what was going on at all times.

Sighing, Solona packed up what little was left of her elfroot supply and tucked away a half full vial of liquid lyrium in her sash, and headed upstairs. It might be safe enough to return to her room now and start packing up. Not like there'd be much to put away. Her personal belongings still mostly consisted of what little she'd brought with her from the Circle, though she had acquired some new clothes, which were a double-baked blessing in disguise. It was hard to go unnoticed when clothed in the flamboyant colors that the mages issued as part of their standard daywear, and her old mage robe had been so tattered and blood stained that it was of very little use anymore anyway. Besides, when on the road traveling, she couldn't afford to bring much because in the end she would have to carry it.

Once up stairs she was on the look out, ready to duck in a door or up the stairs if she caught sight of Aedan. Just as she was about to reach out and open her door she heard a dreadfully familiar voice and stopped on the spot, like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

"There you are!" Aedan came around the corner, looking at once both relieved and mildly astounded, as if surprised that he'd actually managed to find her. "I've been looking all over for you."

"Oh, well…" Maker curse her foul timing. "…you know, things to do. Been a bit busy. I'm sure you have too."

"I'm sure." He repeated, his tone completely agreeable, but his expression less so, like he doubted that it had simply been a set of circumstances that he hadn't seen her all day. "Solona, we need to talk."

"No Aedan, we don't." Solona replied with a bite in her tone, refusing to meet his gaze. "There's nothing to talk about."

"To the Void there isn't." He reached out and grabbed her arm, finally getting her to look at him, though when she did her eyes were full of anger.

"No Aedan, there _really_ isn't." She jerked her arm out of his hand, but didn't turn and attempt to ignore him again. "There's nothing between us that needs discussing."

"I know you're lying." Aedan's voice had dropped low; almost threatening and it sent a shiver down Solona's spine to hear him that way. "I know how you really feel about all of this. You're the one that said you wanted no more lies between us, remember?"

"I do. I remember very well what I said, but that doesn't change anything." She lifted her chin defiantly, mustering all of her courage to look him in the eye and say what she was about to say, deliberately ignoring how fast her heart was beating. "It doesn't matter what I feel about this, or about you. The fact is that you're somebody importantly, and I shouldn't even exist. Entertaining any sort of wild dreams that you and I could make this works is just… fantasy."

For some reason her explanation for refusing to talk hurt far more than he was willing to admit or had even considered. She'd already thought this all through, he could see that now and it put him off his track of trying to get answers out of her. "So that's it?"

"Yes." The single word held all her resolve to keep him safe from herself, regardless of what she wanted or what even he might possibly want. "I owe you and Kallian my life, and I made you a promise. I'm here to see that those debts are paid and be your friend if you allow it, but it will never be more than that." Her voice trembled in the end, betraying the illusion of her steadfast resolve but she didn't drop her gaze.

For a long moment Aedan considered her words and his own reply, then nodded. "If that's how you want it to be, then that's how it'll be."

"Good." She nodded, doing her best not to collapse in a crying heap and was suffering through the effort fairly well. "I'm going to go pack then. We leave early tomorrow morning." Offering a polite nod of her head, she went back to the safety of he room and closed the door behind her before the first tear escaped her eyes.

* * *

><p>AN: Did I just get them together only to break them up again? I THINK I DID! OH HO HO HO HO HO! Please excuse me while I dodge angry fan mail.<p> 


	29. Departure

Aedan's eyes glazed over the paper in front of him one more time before he tucked it away in a thick envelope, grabbing a stick of red wax at his side and melting the tip before pressing it over the lip and sealing it. Inside were three very important documents both to the Wardens and his own personal matter of vengeance.

One was a letter written by Theron and jointly signed between him and Alistair. It was to Arl Eamon, containing the details of the agreement that existed between the Wardens and the Knifers, and now the rebels of Highever. Since curing the Arl of his life-threatening illness, the Wardens hadn't been in contact with Eamon, and Theron had blatantly admitted that he utterly forgot to mention their partnership after returning from a long trip to the Frostback Mountains in search of a way of fixing the Arl. The letter would rectify that, and hopefully Eamon would believe that it wasn't a forgery. Between the two surviving Wardens, neither of them seemed to have any sort of official seal that could prove legitimacy, claiming that anything of the sort would have been kept by Duncan, and the man was long dead, his belongings scattered by the Darkspawn that had claimed Ostagar. In place of a Warden seal, Theron had used an idol he dug out of his pack, a hand-sized statue beautifully carved with some flowing words etched on the bottom that Aedan couldn't have even begun to understand. The elf explained that it was a Dalish artifact, and that if Eamon didn't recognize that Theron was the only one who would be sending the Arl written elvish, then he was a fool.

The second two documents were perhaps of slightly more monumental importance, or at least they were to Aedan. The effort to save Kallian may have cost Norris' life, as well as a score of injuries of varying gravity from his own recruited forces and two other dead men besides, but it wasn't completely without merit. After taking stock of the slaver's safe house, any number of documents had been found pertaining to the shipping and trade of the slaves. Many of them were simply numbers or records of number captured, deported, or dead in transport and thus useless except as a catalogue that displayed how deeply entrenched the slaver ring was in Denerim, most notable being that there wasn't just one trading company here, the second one still at large somewhere in the city. But the two that Aedan had salvaged were of a more damning nature. A passport and trade manifest.

The passport was issued on behalf of the port of Denerim and gave the captain of the Tevinter vessel clearance for free access to the port with the added stipulation that the ship was not subject to be searched by the harbor's import and export inspectors. The trade manifest was a detailed documentation of the flow of the tides around Denerim and two other ports near Highever and Amaranthine. The manifest listed in painful detail what was needed to get in and out of the ports, as well as some scribbling in the margins in Arcanum. The most notable and incriminating thing about the manifest, however, was that it was printed in the Ferelden's common tongue, not Tevinter, and underneath a wine stain on the top corner was the bear on a checkered background that was the heraldry of Amaranthine.

With those two documents at hand, Aedan was convinced that he could prove that Howe was a dirty snake to the rest of the Landsmeet, or at least call into question his integrity and have a formal investigation waged against him. It was only a start, but he had a lot of hurdles to jump before blatantly accusing the man of murdering his family. The Couslands were accused of treason, which was normally a hanging offence by itself. But fraternizing with Orlais? That was utterly unacceptable in the eyes of the nobles and of the people in general. Hanging would be too kind of an execution. He needed to earn the trust and support of anyone that wasn't in Howe's pocket, and that started with smearing the man's name.

_I shouldn't have to prove anything._ The errant thought sent a flush of anger coursing through his body, and he had to resist crumpling the envelope in his hand, tucking it instead into a leather carrier that would keep it safe from the elements. A coldness followed in the wake of his anger, and Aedan shivered, shaking himself. The image of charging into the Denerim estate with a naked blade and nothing between himself and Howe flashed across his vision, and it took a moment to push it aside. Though the confrontation with Mouse had been a few weeks ago, the dark promise that the demon had offered still haunted him. It had been utterly tempting, entirely too good of an offer to say no to, and he had lost to the demon. He still wasn't entirely sure what had brought him back from that, though he imagined that falling with his full weight -armor and all- onto a broken arm had definitely helped snap him back to his senses.

Equipped now with everything he would need, Aedan cast one more look around his room to see if anything sprung up that he would need to carry out as well, then dropped a hand onto Keran's head to scratch behind the mabari's ears. "Time to change our fortune." He said to the dog and got a rumbling bark in return, the dog trotting out of the room and into the hall, human in tow.

When the two arrived in the main hall of the estate, it was to see that a handful of the soldiers he had drawn with his rumor were moving armor and equipment from the basement to the courtyard outside disguised in burlap bags. In an effort to remain unnoticed, Kallian had suggested that they leave the city not as soldiers, but commoners during the morning rush when the traders outbound from the Denerim docks exchanged places with the traders inbound for the market place. All of their weapons and armor were packed in crates and burlap bags on the back of a wagon in an alleyway near the marketplace, under guard by the rest of the soldier who had been steadily trickling out of the Highever estate during the night.

Outside, Kallian, Sticker and Rido were waiting, watching the soldiers march past in the weak grey light of early dawn, the oppressing humidity of the day already gearing up to full tilt before the sun had a chance to properly add it's warmth. When she saw Aedan come out, Kallian waved him over, a stern look on her face. When he got close enough, she leveled a gaze at him and put her hands on her hips in a markedly stubborn way. "Now, just cuz you're goin' off on yer own, don't you do nothin' embarrassin'. You've still got that marker." She gestured at the rest strip of cloth Aedan kept tucked into his belt that she'd given him as proof he was part of the Knifers months ago. "An' if you got that, then you can't let us down, or what'll all the other kids think? They'll come poundin' down the door to beat us up."

Quirking an eyebrow, Aedan did his best to hide his smile. "Oh? I suppose you'll be listening for all the rumors that you can then."

She snorted, puffing a strand of hair out of her face and waved her hand in the air. "Like I do anythin' _but_ babysit rumors? Maker Basher, I figured you wouldn't even have to ask." Rido rolled his eyes at this, looking a bit sour, but Sticker gave a chuckle, his thin shoulders bobbing with mirth.

At that Aedan did smile, knowing very well that she would be keeping a close ear to the ground, as always. Secretly, her tough warning was her way of showing she cared, but he would never be so brass as to accuse her of being a huge softie. They would loose a skilled hand with Kallian staying here, but honestly he was glad for it. This was where she was needed most. "Take care of the estate while we're away. I'm counting on you."

Kallian rolled her eyes. "Of course you are. Speakin' of which, I gotta tell you somethin'." She nodded her head toward the gate, indicating a bare patch of ground around the corner where the two could talk with relative privacy and strode that way purposely, not bothering to check over her shoulder to see if Aedan would follow.

Half bemused and half curious, Aedan chose not to remark on her suddenly imperious manner and followed without complaint, wondering what the elf had to say that would warrant a private conversation. She stopped with her back to the stone wall of the estate, waiting for him with her thumbs hooked in her belt. "Well?"

"Two things." Kallian replied, holding up two fingers, then jerked her thumb behind her in the general direction of where she'd left Sticker and Rido. "First, I wanna let you know that we're gonna cover your escape. The three of us are gonna cause some trouble near the river just outside the marketplace an' see if we can't draw the guards out to the docks. Hopefully, that'll help while ya'll are sneakin' out." Aedan inclined his head gratefully; glad that she'd have the foresight to think up such a plan.

"Secondly," Here she jabbed Aedan in the chest hard, a look of grim determination on her face. "If Ammy comes back cryin', I'm gonna rip your balls off, you hear?"

His eyes widened in surprise at the sudden vehemence, and for a moment he lost his voice. "What? Why would she be crying?"

"Don't play dumb." The elf poked him again, this time hard enough that he actually flinched. "I know you got your heart all locked up and stuffed away, but Ammy doesn't. I swear that if you break her heart, I'll make you pay, got it? So watch yourself." Threat delivered, Kallian eyed him with a slow burning look, then crossed her arms over her chest. "We clear?"

Aedan ran a hand through his hair with mild irritation, looking at a point somewhere above Kallian's left ear. "I understand. But I really don't think it's necessary, I don't…" Back where they had left Sticker and Rido he heard a laugh above the small din of conversation and looked up to see that Solona was talking with the two elves, a wide smile on her face as the three laughed together. Something in his chest twisted, and he sighed to relieve the sudden tension in his throat, looking back at Kallian with an expression that was vaguely related to defeat on his face. "I understand." He reiterated, and hoped that Kallian would drop the matter.

The elf had followed his gaze when she heard the laughter too, and her previously stern look was replaced with a sly grin. "You just keep your promise Basher, an' we won't have no problems." Slapping his forearm in a friendly manner, Kallain smiled and turned on her heel, heading back to join with the other two elves and the mage, leaving Aedan shaking his head and watching her retreating back.

When Kallian rejoined the group, she and Solona talked for a moment, then the mage smiled and nodded sadly before pulling the elf into a tight hug with little warning. She caught sight of Aedan still standing by the corner of the building over Kallian's shoulder and after releasing her smiled and gave a little wave.

Aedan felt the peculiar twist in his chest again and gave a small half-hearted wave in return then turned his attention to those gathered in the courtyard. Dawn was coming, and they needed to join the others before the neighbors woke up and saw all of them leaving. They were all dressed like common travelers as their disguise in hopes that doing so would help them blend into the crowd better. Aside from the grimness around the mouth and the way a few of them searched their surroundings with expert intent, he would never have known them as anything different. Funny how taking a man out of his uniform suddenly changed your perception of him.

Moving to the head of the gathering he gestured briefly for silence. "We move out now." His voice projected through the courtyard, instantly silencing anyone still talking. "Remember, above all else do _not_ panic. This will work as long as we all keep a level head. If somehow we are found out, your orders are to scatter. Do not waste your lives here before we have a chance to change anything. Am I understood?"

A chorus of "Yes Sir!" rang out, a few drawing straighter in a semi-attention stance when they called out their understanding. They moved out through the door in the side of the wall, Kallian, Rido and Sticker following behind and chatting to each other in low voices, planning their distraction technique.

Solona hung back with the elves, tapping Kallian gently on the shoulder. "You take care, alright Kallian? If you get caught again…"

With a sad grin, Kallian smiled and bumped her shoulder against Solona's arm. "I've been runnin' from guards my whole life, Ammy. I ain't gonna get caught now." Seeing the worry in the mage's eyes warmed her heart a little, and she smiled in earnest. "It's you I'm worried about. You look after yourself, 'aight? I don't wanna see you hurt."

"I promise." She gave Kallian a sideways hug, and a smile then jogged to the front of the line to fall in behind Aedan.

Behind her, Sticker whistled, instantly drawing a look from Kallian as she prepared to be irritated at him. "She's got it real bad, hasn't she?"

Sighing, Kallian tried to elbow him in the ribs, but he deftly twisted out of the way with a chuckle. "She does, but you're cross in the head if you think I'll let you tease her about it."

Sticker raised his hands in defense, shrugging. "I'd never provoke you, boss." A thoughtful look crossed his face, and Kallian waited patiently for him to utter something stupid. "Still, you think that when they get back we should take 'em to the Pearl and lock them in a room?"

Rido snorted at that, and Kallian cackled, imagining the stricken look on Aedan's face if they actually did manage to convince him to set one foot into the brothel, let alone wrestle him into one of the rooms. Half-heartedly she aimed another elbow at Sticker's ribs, but didn't rebuke the idea.

* * *

><p>I'm actually sort of sad that I haven't gotten any letters in the mail expressing a desire for me to hang myself by my thumbs for the ending of the last chapter. Oh well! But I do promise to write from Keran's point of view next time I get the opportunity, as per multiple requests~<p>

But OMG finally getting out of Denerim and heading out into the great blue 'yonder! What awaits our heroes on the road to Redcliffe? Will Eamon take them seriously? Will Howe find out about their voyage? Bandits? Darkspawn? Who knows! But I swear, big things are happening, and with only a few months until the Landsmeet is officially called to order, our band of misfits is starting to feel the pressure.

**P.S. I'm really sorry that today's update was later than normal. It's insanity right now. Moving out, midterms, group projects… I was a little stretched thin this week, and I'll probably be even more so next week (Midterms 2.0). So, if you're disappointed that I didn't reply to a review, super sorry D: Just… life. Blah.**


	30. Storm of the Century

In the end, it was easier to get out of Denerim than anyone had predicted it would be. Outside the city walls it was a mess of bodies, a horde of citizens looking for passage out of Ferelden in the wake of the Blight and the Civil war. Most of them were women and children, some wounded, others obviously failing under the strain of the life of a refugee. A group of soldiers gathered around the gate, some with the livery of Gwaren, and more than once Aedan saw them gang up on an able bodied man and drag him into Denerim, never to return.

The nervousness of their own group increased when they saw the impromptu recruitment techniques in action, all of them wondering if they would get dragged off as well, and what would happen if any of the Gwaren soldiers tried it. They would try and fight as a group, without doubt, but after that? It could only get worse. However, apparently their status as traders _leaving_ Denerim got them a first class ticket through the bustling crowd without a second look from the soldiers keeping people from climbing the walls. All in all, they couldn't have asked for a better send-off.

Their single-wagon caravan followed the Imperial Highway for most of the day, leaving the crowded gates far behind and traveled with a steady stream of refugees that were fed up with being abducted or denied at the capitol city and were heading to Amaranthine or Highever in hopes to charter ships to the Free Marches. It provided the perfect cover that they needed to safely get away from the city, and after a day of walking and only coming across one squadron of soldiers, they were in the clear.

The next day they started circulating watches. Half of the recruited men stayed close to the wagon in full armor, weapons at the ready. The other half were sent farther up the road, a handful of scouts in half armor ranging even farther to the sides. Aedan wanted no surprises coming their way, and with the extra scouts, there wouldn't be anyone sneaking up on them any time soon.

When the sun reached its zenith they switched watches, the ones doing the scouting switching places with the soldiers in full gear who got into half gear and went for scouting detail. Three were missing from the returning soldiers however, and half way through putting on his full gear, Aedan started getting worried about the three and very nearly sent out a scouting party to find out what happened. If they had been ambushed, it wouldn't mean anything good.

One of the men returned, running and breathing hard when he came on the wagon. Others immediately surrounded him, wanting to hear the news and what the reason was for him being late, but the man needed some time to breathe before he could properly make coherent sentences. By the time that Aedan made his way over, the scout had some of his air back.

"What's the news?" He asked, and the others made way for him, listening while mumbling to each other. Briefly Aedan flicked his gaze to the horizon, looking for the others similarly running to catch up. "Where is the other two?"

"I don't know about one of 'em, but the other is coming back separate, Ser." The soldier panted, straightening himself up. "Enemy scout found us. Tried to shoot him-" he thumbed at his quiver, missing a fletch from the standard two dozen. "Missed. Weavin' in and outta the trees. Thomas went after him to try and catch up, but we lost him in the underbrush."

Again, Aedan looked up hoping to see this Thomas coming around, but was disappointed when there was nobody coming their way. "Did you see the force the scout was attached to?"

The soldier nodded twice. "A small brigade of men. They were flying Highever colors, not Cousland, though."

He very nearly spat a curse, but restrained himself to just a narrowing of the eyes and clenching his fists until the metal of his gauntlet dug into the leather on his palms. "Howe's men, no doubt. They'll want to know what another Highever troop is doing out here and will come to investigate-"

"Runner!" Someone called at the head of the formation, and all eyes were drawn immediately to the call. Coming from the road ahead, a single scout was making his way to them, his stride even and not panicked, but obviously driven with a purpose. Aedan prepared himself for more bad news.

The scout wasted no time to finding his way to where Aedan was, stopping short and saluting quickly before delving straight into his report. "There's a band of soldiers heading straight for us. Amaranthine as best as I can figure, they're not wearing much in the way of heraldry or flying colors. Fifteen men I counted, some in pursuit of a lone man. More recruiting, I think."

"That could be Thomas." The first scout said, looking back from Aedan to the second returning scout, obviously worried for his comrade in arms.

"Seems like we've a problem on our hands." Aedan mumbled to himself, looking around at their immediate surroundings and wondering if there was any chance that they could make a better deal out of this. The Amaranthine soldiers they could handle, since they outnumbered them by three fold. But he wasn't so sure about the ones flying Highever colors. And there was still the issue of the missing scout. As much as he would like to save the man, it seemed like they were too pressed for time to attempt a rescue mission. "Everyone get into full gear." He commanded, projecting his voice over the gathered soldiers. "We're going to have to make a stand one way or another, so we might as well be prepared. Did either of you see somewhere defensible where we could barricade ourselves in?"

Both scouts glanced at each other, waiting a beat for the other to volunteer something helpful. When it became apparent that neither of them had any particularly good information, the second scout spoke up. "Ser, there was a fenced field up ahead with a steep hill around one side, but getting the wagon over the terrain would be hard. Recent rains to the north and east have made the ground soggy anywhere off the main roads."

"Nothing much behind us but open farm country and a scattering of trees." The other volunteered with an apologetic shrug.

Solona, having heard the majority of this conversation took the opportunity to step forward, closing in by Aedan's side and taking quick stock of the two scouts before shifting her staff off her shoulder and holding it to her side like a walking stick. "I could use my magic to even the odds a little."

The two scouts looked at her nervously, obviously showing that neither of them were particularly experienced in dealing with mages, but Aedan remained utterly unruffled. "What's your plan?" He asked, all business and strategy. There were a number of men under his care that were about to land themselves between a rock and a hard place. All of their lives were at risk. There was no room for flippant things like emotions, especially the kind that he wasn't entirely sure how to deal with.

"I know a couple of spells that when cast together will combine and be able to deal a lot of damage… But I'll be a bit useless afterwards. It takes a lot of manna to summon both spells combined." Solona bit her lip with a tad bit of nervousness, watching Aedan's features for the judgment to fall on her plan. "If the enemy soldiers were clustered up a bit, that would help. And we'd need some distance from them, or else we might get caught up in the spell."

Aedan dipped his head, considering, then nodded and looked up to the first scout that had made it back. "What kind of distance do we have on the Highever group?"

"A mile Ser." He replied immediately. "Maybe a little more."

"That gives us precious little time to play with, then…" Rubbing his chin, Aedan cast his eyes on the ground briefly, working through the problem almost visibly then turned abruptly and found his second in command, a burly man that looked like he could wrestle an ox and win and bore the scars of many battles. "Brom, we'll continue down this road toward the Amaranthians. If they've been sent on a course to meet with the Highever force, then we can pretend we're them until they figure out the ruse. If they aren't looking for Highever soldiers, then hopefully we can just pass by and rely on Amaranthine's and Highever's alliance to keep us out of trouble. Tell the men to have their weapons ready."

With a salute and a grunt of understanding, Brom turned and bellowed out the orders to the rest of the men who took to action immediately now that they were being given something to do. Turning back to Solona, Aedan took her aside slightly. "Your orders are different. You'll stay at the back of the party and out of the way if we get into a scuffle. You-" he pointed to one of the scouts, "will keep an eye on the road, so trail behind us. The moment you see the Highever force catching up, you sprint back up here and warn us. Solona, the _second_ they're in range, you cast your spell. It's risky enough that we might have to take on the Amaranthine force, I don't want to be between the two of them when they find out that we're not loyal to their lord."

"I understand." Reflecting all of Aedan's seriousness, Solona nodded and held her staff tighter, quelling some of her nervousness. All around them the soldiers were moving, the wagon loaded with their necessary supplies for the trip moving along at the slow horse's clopping pace. Everyone was in full armor now, bearing the Highever crest like they had every right to be doing so and weren't in truth a bunch of refugees that had simply banded together under their old colors. They were all tense for there was no thought that they wouldn't see a fight. It was just a matter of how many and when.

The first glimpse they caught of the Amaranthine force was when they rounded the peak of a small hill. The force of fifteen was split in half, some of them marching in file with a handful of lagers behind, and then another four who looked to be escorting a single man well behind the original column. From here it was hard to tell the features of the apparently captured man, but he definitely wasn't Thomas. The man looked more like a scraggly farmer from this distance; another casualty of the ongoing civil war.

When the Amaranthine soldiers first saw the Highever imposters there was some pointing and general muttering, but otherwise they didn't appear to react. Well, at least they hadn't been tipped off beforehand about their true identity. Heading off their own column with Brom in tow, Aedan wondered if they would simply be allowed to pass. He could only hope that was the case. When the two marching forces were within stone-throwing distance from one another, the Amaranthine troop leader called a halt to his men who ambled to a stop, obviously all of them either tired or lacking proper training in column marching. From the way that more than a handful of them awkwardly carried their armor, Aedan would have put his silvers on a bet that they were new recruits.

Signaling for a halt to his own forces, they stopped on command far more orderly than the bumbling farmers-turned-soldiers and he walked forward with Brom at his side, meeting the leader from the Amaranthine forces half way.

"You got orders for us, Ser?" The soldier asked, stopping a few feet away and waiting to hear whatever news was about to befall them. He took a moment to assess Aedan, a brief flicker of disappointment flashing over his face before it was covered again by a road-weary and vaguely bored expression. These young pups. Who gave them the right to be leading men?

"No." Aedan replied, sounding just as bored. "Carry on as you were."

The soldier did perk up at that, surprised that there was nothing further to be done for his small band of men. Apparently, he had been expecting something else entirely. "Nothing at all Ser?" He asked, the disbelief even more clear in his voice. "Last orders we were given ended with us meeting up with your company here for further instruction."

With a casual shrug, Aedan tried his best to look disinterested and slightly apologetic. "Change of plans, I guess. We weren't given any message for you."

"Damn politicians can't make up their minds…" The man muttered under his breath rolling his eyes to the sky in exasperation. "We'll attach to your unit, then. You're headed to the front, right? Maker knows we'll do better there than wandering around the Bannorn playing at protection. We're soldiers, not damned city guardsmen."

Shaking his head perhaps a little too quickly, Aedan held up his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Might want to head back to Amaranthine if you haven't got pressing orders. You never know what the Teyrn's got planned. We're just reinforcements."

From the back of the company Solona watched the discussion between Aedan and the Amaranthine soldier dragged on, growing more nervous the longer the two talked. She knew time was short, and wasn't this exactly what Aedan wanted to prevent? It seemed like with every passing moment the chance that they would get caught in the middle of the two forces. Looking back over her shoulder, she looked at the horizon for a peek of the oncoming Highever forces and swallowed hard. Was that a banner just peaking up over the next hill?

Her eyes caught movement off to the side and she looked just in time to see the scout assigned to warn them of the oncoming forces sprint out of the cover of the trees and onto the hard-packed dirt of the road. With her heartbeat rapidly starting to pick up, she focused on the horizon, taking a deep breath and calming herself. Right. Everyone was relying on her to even the odds a bit, and that's precisely what she was going to do.

Reaching out to the flow of the Fade was a bit like trying to grab water. Tapping into it always sent shivers down her spine, the feeling of coldness a brief shock, but she anchored her willpower to that feeling and dragged the slippery strands of surrealism out of the place where it dwelled deep inside her body. Once brought forward it cloaked her physical form and when Solona opened her eyes it was to see the soldiers nearest her backing away from the sudden display of magic, the soft blue glow covering her body enough to make them nervous.

Pointedly ignoring their fear she held her staff to the side in one hand and began tracing a complicated series of lines and circles in front of her, the tendrils of the Fade carving thin lines in the very air. When the figure was complete and the spell set, she grabbed the twisting lines in her hand, the magic like a hard ball in her clenched fist and abruptly swung the head of her staff into her palm, slapping the magic into the weapon with a spark of cold that flared out between her fingers. Immediately the staff began to glow with the same soft blue that surrounded Solona, the power inside of the weapon near vibrating it with the magic it held back. Twisting the staff and gripping it with both hands, Solona slammed the butt of the staff into the ground in front of her, streaks of frost shooting out to either side and coating the dirt.

At the bottom of the hill where the Highever force was advancing the symbol she had carved into the air flashed briefly on the ground in a vivid blue light and disappeared just as fast. She could see the ripple of unease that went through the marching troops; all of them obviously already ready to do battle with their naked swords gleaming in the sunlight. For an uneasy handful of seconds there was dead silence, then a screaming wind kicked up over where the mark had appeared, a vortex of snow and hail literally springing up out of nowhere.

The reaction on all sides was immediately apparent. A number of soldiers caught in the storm were knocked over by the sudden whipping wind. Horses panicked and screamed above the howling wind, sent sideways and rolling over armored men. The soldiers around her were just as stunned, some simply watching in open awe while others scrambled to get away from her, moving quickly to the center of their gathered forces. The Amaranthine soldiers were alerted by all the noise that the spell was causing, a few of them drawing their blades.

"What in the name of bloody Andraste is going on?" The leader asked, drawing his blade and looking up first at the mage woman on top of the hill, then to Aedan and Brom.

Without waiting for an order, Brom drew his great sword and swung it down in a broad arc. The Amaranthine soldier barely had time to react, raising his sword in an un-braced block. The man stood no chance against Brom, and was cut down on the spot, collapsing in a bloody heap on the ground.

Turning quickly to his men, Aedan raised his sword and pointed it toward the Amaranthine force, sliding his shield over his arm. "Attack!" Overhead a dozen arrows let fly, whistling through the air and came down over top of the enemy troops, one or two immediately dropping with fletches sticking out of their necks and a couple of others crying out with newly acquired holes in their bodies. The clattering of armor quickly covered up the screams of injured men however, Aedan's rebel forces charging forward on their leader's command and engaging the enemy.

Up on top the hill Solona was near finished casting a second spell and when she let the magic loose over the already chaotic blizzard ripping around over the Highever troops, things got even more chaotic in the blink of an eye. The mini storm was illuminated from the inside with magic, the flashes of light nearly blinding in their intensity. An unearthly howling started from the center of the storm, at first a dull roar that grew quickly into a high-pitched fluctuating scream punctuated from booms of thunder. A long funnel formed from the center, the sky high above becoming dark with heavy clouds and connected, the lightning streaked tornado thrashing the already harassed soldiers below with the summoned force of nature.

The wind from the tornado could be felt from the top of the hill where Solona stood, breathing like she'd just run a marathon and leaning heavily against her staff, watching as the work of her spells unfolded. The storm fed off of her magic, the tight controlled weave of mana leaving her at an alarming rate until the spell had taken all it needed, the storm self-sufficient now as it kicked up clouds of dust and men, throwing them around and off their feet, into each other, horses, the ground and other debris. Their screams were terrible, but she listened anyway. This was her doing, and she'd see it through.

Below the clash between the Amaranthine forces and the Highever rebels was drawing to a swift close. In the initial attack at least five soldiers had simply dropped their weapons and run in the opposite direction, the price of battle far too rich for their blood. Another three dropped to the ground on their knees and begged for mercy, surrendering right away. The remaining handful of soldiers fought briefly, but overwhelmed as they were by the numbers of the rebels they were quickly killed and put to rest. There wasn't time for celebration, for as the last man fell and they had the surrendered soldiers surrounded Solona came running down the hill.

"They're on us!" She yelled over the general noise, the soldiers parting way for the still blue glowing mage, none of them wanting to be accidentally or purposely turned into a frog for getting in her way. "I did what I could, but most of them have made it out…"

Looking up to the sky, Aedan saw the base of the funnel cloud over the peak of the hill that separated them from the approaching enemy forces, the clouds high above streaking with forks of lightning and the chill of the air created by the storm strong enough here to make him shiver in his armor. "Turn about!" He commanded and the archers who had been standing halfway up the hill fell back to the rear, readying their shots as the rest of the force moved forward, prepared to meet the charge.

"You three!" Gesturing to a few soldiers that had run to the front lines with him, Aedan stopped them before they could get to the new front. "We need someone back here to watch them." He flicked his sword briefly at the kneeling soldiers who had surrendered. "I don't want them getting any funny ideas and down our whole force from behi-" He looked again at the men on their knees and stopped dead mid syllable, his eyes going wide as he stared at what he thought had been a scraggly farmer captured by the Amaranthians. With quickened steps and his heart in his throat, he quickly walked over to the man, who lifted his head when he saw Aedan's boots come into view and the two met gazes for a long moment.

Aedan inhaled sharply, dropping his sword in the dirt and practically fell on his knees in front of the man, his hands pausing a few inches from grabbing his shoulders. "Fergus?"

* * *

><p>CHOO CHOO! All aboard the cliffhanger express!<p>

Super late chapter update this time :/ this might become normal, unfortunately, since "Video Production" is a six syllable synonym for "death". But I'm determined to get this out every week if possible! So thanks for hanging with me guys. Also, I haven't yet decided if next week I'll resolve this cliffhanger, or if I'll jump back to Denerim and see what sort of trouble Kallian's getting into. Whatchu guys think?

Also, thanks to everyone sending in their reviews. It really helps to inspire despite the time crunch, and I can't be thankful enough. Again, sorry for the late chapter, and see ya'll next week.


	31. Siblings

Things were quiet over the market district. The whole city had been quiet since the raid on the slaver compound, the other slaver factions apparently content to keep quiet and out of the way since the attack. It was both frustrating and reassuring for Kallian as she watched over the city from the top of a roof, leaning against a crooked brick chimney as she scanned the empty square in front of her. There were a few guards circling the main tent where the merchants kept their wares locked up in heavy boxes, but other than that there was no movement on the street. With all of the refugees locked up in the city clamoring for escape to somewhere without an impending Blight, Kallian would have thought that the crime rate would have sky rocketed. Surprisingly, everything had remained the same.

Of course, part of that was because the Knifers had a strict policy about thugs invading their turf. In a way, their little group of criminals was doing a better job at keeping guard than the actual guard, but that was a line of thought for another time. When Basher came back with his Teyrn-ness restored, Howe and his sloppy watchmen would get the boot. Or at least, that's what she hopped.

With one final scanning gaze over the empty market square, Kallian turned from her chimney and made her way across the roof, making a short leap to the next building and coming down on the other side, looking both ways down the street before fully standing and started walking toward the docks. The real chaos in the city was here, where the loading district met with the upper echelons of Denerim's society. Everyone with a tent or a strip of cloth that could serve as a wind breaker had set up camp between buildings, boxes, overturned boats, fish stands, or invaded attics. The despair could practically be sniffed out even over the constant reek of fish guts and seaweed, and long into the night it wasn't uncommon to hear the soft sound of babes weeping into their mother's breasts.

If only those slave traders were only half as effective at moving regular people as they were moving elves.

Snorting, Kallian headed back to the uptown parts of the city, bypassing the docks as best she could to keep out of that mess. It had become dangerous to go near the docks at night for all of her elves now. The guardsmen for what they were worth clustered around the hopeless refugees, doing their best to keep some sort of order, especially when a new boat arrived from over the horizon promising to take the people clustered near the docks to far away places if they had the coin to charter a ship. The night patrols were especially effective at sniffing out rogues, and she'd had to save Pita once when the two were on patrol together and the flighty woman had been caught by an over zealous guard. It was practically a death sentence for elves to be caught outside at night, and Kallian wasn't going to see another of her people dead, not after Norris.

Needless to say, the patrols for the guardsmen had become even more strict after that. The Knifers were a known threat throughout the city, though they weren't known as such. Any elves found outside the Alienage, regardless of the time of day, were faced with scrutiny from the guardsmen. For now, Kallian had her people sticking indoors as much as possible. There was no need to take too many risks, especially now that Aedan's armed guards had moved out of the place and wouldn't be there to help if they got into a scrape.

Rounding a corner, Kallian was now close to the estate, watching the main streets for a sign of the night patrol. When the walls of the estate were in sight she saw an irregularity popping out from the side of the building in front of her, shaped like a set of shoulders and a head. Ducking into an alleyway, Kallian watched whomever it was that was watching the estate, nerves fluttering in her stomach. Had they finally been found out?

Past the end of the alleyway she watched as two of her scouts came down off the roofs, landing by the building and looking both ways down the street before making the cross to the side door by the gate. The figure by the wall had ducked behind the corner when the two elves had come down and was now well hidden within the shadows. Whoever it was waited until the two scouts were inside the wall, then exited the alleyway and took off deeper into the upper-class section of Denerim.

Silently spitting curses, Kallian followed, taking to the roofs as soon as she could and tracked the runner parallel to his course, skirting over the rooftops with practiced ease. When she looked up to see where they were going, she recognized the building instantly and hear heart leapt in her throat. The Denerim Estate. So, this runner was working for Howe, huh? Well, she'd put a stop to him.

Pouring on some speed, Kallain ran faster to catch up with the runner, tile slates creaking under her weight as she passed by and after leaping down onto a single story roof took two steps and jumped down to the street below. Her fall was softened by the man she was chasing, and he went down the second her weight hit him in the back, doing a face plant on the ground. Kallian gave the stunned man no time to recover, getting her legs back under her and loosened a dagger from its sheathe, turning the man on his back and pressing the weapon flush against his throat so that he could feel the tip biting into his skin.

"How much do ya know, an' who wants to know it?" She hissed, pressing her knee to the man's stomach, making him cough and gasp for air. She was surprised to note that it wasn't a human she'd brought down, but an elf. An elf with blood gushing out of his nose and a split lip with a scratched up chin from the fall. He looked vaguely familiar, and though tall for an elf was actually rather young.

"Please, jus' lemme go." He mumbled through his stuffed up bloody nose, looking terrified under Kallian's knife. So much so that he didn't even try to reach up and wipe the blood off his face. "I wabn't doin' nothin', honest."

"Like I'm going to believe that." Kallian spat, fisting her free hand in the boy's collar and shook him slightly, adjusting her dagger so that she didn't flay his neck wide open. "What're ya doin' peepin' on our hidout, eh? Who're you workin' fer? Cooperate, an' I won't torture the information outta ya."

"I-I wabn't peepin'!" He replied with a stutter, eyes flying wide in a horrified expression. "I swear! I swear I wabn't! I was lookin' for Wowen!"

"Wowen?" She didn't get a chance to question the boy further because she heard something move off to her left and looked over quickly to see Sticker standing in the center of the street, watching her with a stunned expression.

He swore colorfully, then came forward quickly and knelt next to the boy. "Elai! What in the bloody name of Andraste are you _doing_ here?"

More confused now, Kallain kept her grip on the boy in her hands, staring at Sticker, bewildered. "Elai? You know this kid, Sticker?"

Frowning, Sticker nodded. "Yeah, I-"

"Wowen!" Tearing up, the boy pulled aside Kallain's knife and struggled to get out from under her. Surprised, she let him and watched as the kid threw his arms around Sticker, sobbing into the older elf's chest. "Wowen!"

At first it seemed like Sticker didn't know what to do with the boy, then he wrapped his arms around Elai and hugged him tightly. "Idiot, what're you doin' out here Elai? I thought I told you to stay home."

Sniffling through his tears and broken nose, the boy tried to clean up a little bit, succeeding only in smearing the blood over his face. "They t-t-took ma." He cried, leaning back and dipping his head, unable to meet Sticker's eyes. "I s-stayed back jus' like you said, an' then ma got taken, so I came to find you. I-I didn't know what else to do…"

"Shh, it's alright, I'll look after you now." Sticker pulled Elai back into a hug, squeezing him gently then looked up over the boy's shoulder at Kallian who had been staring openly at the spectacle the whole time.

"So." She started, sitting on her heels and putting her knife away. "Wowen?"

Letting go of Elai, Sticker cleaned a bit of blood off of the boy's face before looking at Kallian again. "Roen. That's my real name. And Elai is… my little brother. Half brother."

Looking down at the bloodied face of Elai, Kallain studied him for a long moment with probing eyes and finally placed why he looked so familiar. Though the younger boy didn't share his older sibling's orange hair and green eyes, but was blonde with brown eyes, they did have similar faces, sharing the same jaw and eye shape. Sudden realization dawned on her, and she snapped, pointing at him with her elbow propped up on her knee. "You're that kid that was always hanging around the store!"

Elai nodded, wiping his bloody nose on his palm then pinched his nostrils to stop the bleeding pouring out the front. "Uh huh. I cawwy bawkses."

"So if you were looking for him-" Kallian pointed to Sticker "Then why were you runnin' for the Arl's estate?"

Shaking his head with his nose still securely pinched shut, Elai frowned. "Nawt Awl's estate. I was hidin' jus' up thattaway." He pointed to a building about a hundred feet away that was very close to its neighbor, the alley way created between the two walls small enough for one person to walk through it at an angle. "Gward saw me commin' outta the Awianage. I hadda hide. I been wooking fo a few weeks, so I been sweepin' there."

It was hard to understand him through his plugged nose, but Kallian nodded, getting the gist of what he was trying to say. "Alright, good 'nuff for me, I guess." Standing, Kallain looked over the two brothers from where they were still on the ground, a contemplative look on his face. "You any good at knives?"

"No." It was Sticker who answered, an unusual look of defiance in his normally easy-going and casual gaze. He helped Elai to his feet and stood as well, standing just slightly in front of the younger boy. "He carries boxes and does odd jobs, that's it."

Lifting an eyebrow, Kallain crossed her arms over her chest, cocking her head to the side. "Aye? Well, has he got a job outside the Alienage?" There was a brief uncomfortable silence where Sticker remained silent, staring intensely at Kallian and then Elai finally shook his head no. "Well, I suppose that means we're gonna have to train him, don't it?"

"No." He repeated, taking a step forward so that the height difference between himself and Kallain was painfully obvious. "I've been doin' this for years so that Elai and mom could have a decent life in the Alienage. He's not going to turn out a petty thief like me."

"I don't see that there's much choice." Kallian replied with a shrug, her easy tone belying the tenseness of her body, ready for action. "Everyone's gotta pull their weight. If he don't have a payin' job, then he's gotta go on patrols an' raids jus' like the rest of us. We don't get fed if we start takin' on stray siblings that ain't got a way to support themselves."

Sticker's jaw tightened, visibly clenching and she could see him trying to work up a decent argument to prevent his brother from turning to a life of crime. "There's no way he can do it. It'd take too long to teach him. I worked too hard to keep him on the straight and narrow for it all to be thrown out now."

"Why don't you let him decide?" Kallian shot back, bristling now. "You gotta look at the facts here Sticker. Yer mum's been taken to who knows where, whether by the guards or by the Slavers, an' you ain't getting' her back. Now that he's outside the Alienage, he ain't safe. If you wanna leave an' go yer own way, fine! But if you got a notion of stayin' then both of you are gonna have to play but the rules. I ain't makin' exceptions for favorites. That's how people wind up _dead._"

The two had a tense stare off, neither of them giving ground, then Elai tugged on Sticker's sleeve, stepping forward. "I'll do it."

"Elai-"

"She's gotta pwoint, Wowen." Elai said, turning his large eyes up at his brother, silently pleading with him. "It's nawt safe fow us to bwe awone."

Sticker's gaze softened slightly, then he put his hand on Elai's head and ruffled the kid's hair. "Alright, I'll teach you then."

"Good." Kallain nodded with a sniff. "Glad we got that all figured out, then. Sticker, I'll take your round. You go take Elai and get him cleaned up. Introduce him to the others, an' don't get into any trouble."

With a reluctant nod, Sticker put his hands on Elai's shoulders and started to direct him back to their hideout. "Will do boss. See you at dawn then."

Kallain watched the two leave, then took a deep breath and looked up to the sky. Family… It was easy to call Elai a kid, since he was so innocent looking, but really he was only a year or two younger than her at most. She knew why Sticker didn't want him to get involved in this life. It made you grow up. Made you do things and did things to you that pushed you past your years. Twisting the engagement ring on her finger, she abruptly stopped that train of thought and headed down the street that Sticker had come from, loosing herself in the constant search for danger.

•º•.•º•

"Fergus?"

The man retuned Aedan's gaze, his expression a jumbled mix of disbelief and awe. He reached forward, clasping his large calloused hands on Aedan's shoulders, tilting his head. "Aedan? Is that really you?"

Breath caught in his throat, Aedan was lost for words. All the hurt and insecurity driven by loss suddenly unleashed and swelling in his chest, mixed with such profound relief that he couldn't hold back any longer. The two brothers came together in a strong bear hug, Aedan's metal armor crunching against a breastplate hidden underneath Fergus' farmer disguise, which had made him look far more bulky than he actually was.

The heartfelt reunion was quickly ended by the clash of arms on the crest of the hill when the Highever forces met the Rebels. Pulling back, Aedan got to his feet and offered Fergus a hand up then unsheathed his sword, giving it to him. "You're going to need this."

"No rest for the weary." Fergus mumbled in reply, taking the sword and testing its weight against his palm briefly. He nodded his head toward Aedan's now empty hands. "What about you?"

"Where there's a will…" Turning to the men that had been captured and were watching the spectacle unfold on their knees, Aedan stood squarely in front of one. "Hand over your sword." He commanded, holding out his hand expectantly. Startled, the farmer-turned-infantry fumbled with his weapon and handed it over clumsily to Aedan, at first trying to hand it to him by the hilt, then switched his grip and offered the hilt instead, hands shaking. Now armed, Aedan turned toward Fergus. "Fight with us. These are your men. They follow the Teyrn of Highever."

A pained expression passed over Fergus' face at the mention, but he nodded and gave Aedan a grim smile. "It's a good thing that fighting against improbable odds is nothing new to me. You'd better not die. I've spent too long chasing your rumors to let you disappear now."

Aedan returned the grin. "Same to you."

The clash had intensified during the conversation, the Highever forces that had gotten away from the raging electrified tornado gathering on the crest of the hill against the Rebels and began closing ranks around the smaller force and beating back their front lines. Standing at the back, Solona watched as Aedan and Fergus moved together toward the front to stand with their men in defense, the howling of the storm she had caused a strong overlay on the chaotic sounds of battle. A second later it blew out with a crack of thunder, the wind and snow dissipating to all sides carried on the remnants of the gale across the plains.

The battle was horribly pitched in favor of the Highever soldiers, their greater numbers and ability to surround the rebels cutting off any chance of escape and limiting any sort of tactical maneuvers other than put their backs to each other and hope for the best. After the initial surge however, the Highever forces began to wane in the effectiveness of their attack. The physical toll that the frost and shock from the Storm took a visible toll on their bodies, and more than once a soldier had rushed forward with a limp swing as his attack only to be easily cut down by the defenders. The advantage that their greater numbers supplied quickly disintegrated and the fight became a power struggle to keep the high ground.

With his brother at his side, Aedan called out encouragement to the men in his direct vicinity, throwing out orders and insults by turns depending on who was directly in front of him. Fergus could take the job later. Right now, they needed something that vaguely resembled a cohesive strategy, and the Rebels knew that they could listen to Aedan to get them out of a pinch. Someone on the Highever side noticed that he was the guy in command and suddenly the pressure to keep his defenses up increased. To either side of him, men fell, cut down by the Highever forces that still had their wits about them after the tornado. Fergus was there to back him up, the two brothers guarding each other's flanking sides, but it wasn't enough.

Behind him there was a cry of a dying man and he turned to see only enemies there. Backing up until he felt resistance, Aedan was shocked to see that they were completely surrounded, cut off from the main body of their forces by a wall of angry Highever soldiers. One came at him, swinging wildly and met Aedan's shield, followed by a stab to the gut that downed the man but another soldier replaced him quickly. Over all of the noise and confusion he could hear Keran barking desperately, trying to get at him through the forest of shuffling legs but couldn't manage without getting hacked apart.

"Seems we're in trouble." Fergus called over his shoulder, sounding vaguely amused despite the direness of the situation. A spell blasted over head, striking one of the men near Fergus and gave the man pause as he tried to recover, but it gave the older Cousland just enough time to strike a blade through the man's throat. "You did good picking up a mage."

"It was the other way around!" Aedan replied with a grimace, taking a heavy blow from an enemy on his shield and staggering backwards, brushing up against Fergus before he could get his feet under him and shove back, lashing out with a straight strike with his sword that met only another shield. Another man came in from his right, forcing Aedan to draw his sword backward in an awkward block, catching the man's sword in his hilt guard and twisted his wrist, disarming the man. Now weaponless, the man retreated before either sibling could strike him down. He was replaced by another armed soldier that filled the space with a blade and a will to kill the two rebels. Another spell rocketed out of the sky, but the soldier seemed unfazed when it hit him and continued his bloody charge.

The gap between the two Couslands and their forces continued to widen, the Rebel forces unaware that their commander had been separated from the group and were communally relying on their battle skills to beat back the Highever forces. Soldiers dropped on both sides of the battle, wounded or dead, unable to move and continue the fight either way. Surrounded by death with their own looming in front of them, Aedan fell back into a primal mode of live or die. His arms grew tired under the weight of the armor and the attacks, sweat from his brow near blinding him from oncoming attacks.

Fergus was in little better shape. Old wounds pained him from the exertion, his weeks of being on the run with lack of sleep or food finally catching up at a critical moment. Two men came at him, both of them he parried and one he landed a critical blow on the man's arm that was sure to cripple his fighting hand. A third came from behind that he didn't see until the brute gave out a battle cry, lifting a huge two-handed sword over his head that would rend Fergus straight in half.

Something entered his field of vision, moving too quickly to quite comprehend until he was pushed backward by the intervening force out of the way of the arc of the blade. The steel crunched on a shield, and Aedan went down, his knees buckling under the weight of the blow and his shield denting inward as it caught most of the blow in a nearly head-on block.

Growling in anger, the man charged forward and angled his blade to stab Aedan straight through the middle, the younger man too far gone with the pain of his broken arm to do much in the way of blocking. A spell hit the man in the shoulder, sending sparks streaming across his body and he convulsed, pitching forward with his sword still in his hands. The blade moved off its target, sinking into Aedan's side instead, the chainmail only holding out for so long until it gave from the weight and angle of the strike, something cracking in Aedan's chest as hot blood poured out from the newly opened wound.

Fergus leapt forward, covering his downed brother and with an impressive swing hacked off the man's head, sending it flying into the crow where it struck a Highever soldier bodily and sent him reeling back in surprise. The Rebel soldiers managed to push through the offensive Highever line, beating back the soldiers and filling in front, continuing the battle on their own now that their numbers outweighed the Highever forces.

On the ground, Aedan's world was going dark. It was hard to breathe, harder to think, and his vision swam, going black around the edges. He barely felt the pain in his side, which was both a good and bad thing. A face entered his small range of vision, and when he blinked he recognized that it was Fergus who was blocking out the light of the sun. His lips were moving but he couldn't quite hear what he was saying. Hands jostled his shoulders. It hurt. He wished that Fergus would stop doing that. But at least he was alive. At least he wasn't the only one anymore.

With that thought he smiled absently, then closed his eyes and slipped away into darkness.

* * *

><p>AHAHAHAHAHA! You all thought that you were going to see a resolution, weren't you? WELL YOU WERE WRONG! SURPRISE, AEDAN DIED! Special hell, here I come~<p>

Anyway, probably no update next week. I have a final exam to prepare for, more filming, and Skyrim and AC: Revelations are out this week. I'm getting my game nerd on. It'll be sad to not update for the first time in… well, since I started this, but eh. I promise to come back with a really sappy chapter that will make you all forgive me for leaving you hanging.


	32. Reunited

He had died.

Everything around him was cloaked in hazy darkness. It was hard to think. He couldn't see anything but darkness, and there was a strange numb quality to his mind that prevented him from thinking. Free floating in that boundless void, there was only a single train of thought that wasn't perhaps so much of a thought as an undeniable fact inscribed on the fabric of his being: _I must be dead._

But then the haze began to thin and warmth spread over his body. That's when he began to notice other things like how hard it was to breathe and what pain it caused him. Well, if he were in pain, he couldn't possibly be dead. That reassured him in a vaguely satisfying manner, though the harder it was to breathe the more he began to wake up, panic forcing him to rouse. Other senses began to awaken along with his conscious thinking mind. He was lying down and every joint ached with weariness. What had happened? The last thing he remembered was being in battle. Flashing steel, the screaming of the dying, the pain of wounds, the sting of sweat in his eyes and then…

"Fergus!" With a jolt, Aedan sat straight up in bed and his efforts were rewarded with a searing pain that took his breath away, spots swimming in front of his eyes and a deafening rushing sound in his ears that made him woozy and off-balance. Cool hands on his chest pushed him back down, and it was only after being able to master himself that he could look up and see who was taking care of him.

Solona hovered over him, her face pinched and obviously worn with dark smudges under her eyes. She looked like she hadn't slept in days, her clothes rumpled and hair equally disheveled. In short, she was a mess. All the same, he recognized the warm flow of her healing magic when she passed her hands over his chest once more, biting at her lip in worry. He couldn't help but to smile. "You're a beautiful sight."

Her face colored in a blush and she averted her eyes to keep from looking at Aedan's tired but amused expression. "I know you're kidding. Honestly, how can you joke at a time like this? You nearly died." She gestured at the thick wrap around his chest splotched with the coppery color of old dried blood and applied her healing magic there again.

He chose not to antagonize her further, realizing a little belatedly that she had probably been up for who knows how long tending to all of their wounded from the battle. She was the only mage that they had in their group and though most of the soldiers would know basic first aid, he severely doubted that any of them were proper medical material with only perhaps one or two around that were experienced enough to have noteworthy skills. "How are you doing?" He asked softly, searching her turned face carefully to make sure that she wasn't going to try and give him some half-truth about how she was all right.

"Tired." Solona replied with a long sigh, sitting back on the crate she'd taken as a seat next to Aedan's cot and rubbed her forehead. "Eight died in the initial assault. There were three more that I couldn't save and… well, there's another two I'm worried about. I'm not sure if they're going to make it." Heaving a great sigh, she pinned Aedan with a look, though he wasn't coherent enough to quit place the emotions swimming in her gaze. "And then you nearly got yourself killed. Broken arm, broken ribs, punctured lung… That man very nearly cut you in half, you know. Your armor saved you from being skewered beyond my ability to mend, but not by much. And we had to dig links from your chainmail out of your side before I could do anything. Your arm too." Gently she reached over to Aedan's side and held his broken arm in both hands, tightly bound in a makeshift splint and thick with strips of linen and gauze. She let him see the handiwork for a moment before setting the cast back at his side on the cot. "The armor did more harm than good when we tried to get it off. It'll heal, but there will be a scar, and I'm not skilled enough to outright heal a broken bone. Only keep it from getting infected. One of the other soldiers set your arm actually; I didn't even know how to do that. Either way, you can't be fighting for a while. Magic or not, you're very weak, and that arm will take a while to heal up properly."

Aedan took the death toll in stride, secretly impressed that they'd managed to get away with only loosing so little of their force against a much larger enemy. The recalling of his own wounds he took just as well, lifting his good hand to his side where he remembered the man with the broad sword swinging at him. His fingers brushed wrappings, and his side was wet, probably with blood. That would definitely account for how light-headed he felt, loosing that much blood. However, being declared an invalid, even if it was a temporary situation, didn't bode well with him. He was sure that Solona saw the look of displeasure on his face, because she frowned in return, obviously expecting him to argue the point. He probably would have, if he weren't so tired and there weren't a more important subject lingering in his head. "What about Fergus? Is he alright?"

Solona smiled gently, the sleeplessness disappearing for a few seconds and patted Aedan's good arm. "He's fine. He took some wounds in the battle, but most of them were easily tended to through normal means. He was mostly worried about you, and has been standing in for you the past few days."

Aedan frowned at that, confused. Past few days? How long had he been unconscious for? The revelation that his brother was fine instantly lightened his heart though, and the mortal failings of his body were forgotten in the sweep of relief. He sighed, his side protesting the motion, but smiled still despite the pain. "Can I see him?"

Her smile became tinged with a hint of wariness, and Solona leaned back on her crate. "I can go get him. You're in no shape to be walking right now. Just sitting up like you did earlier tore open the wound on your side again." She flicked her gaze to the bandages wrapped tightly around his waist and lower ribs, the patch of crimson having stopped spreading after her quick bout of healing, but it was still much too large for her comfort.

Aedan took a moment to collect his thoughts and try to come up with a logical reason as to why he should be allowed to stand up and go find Fergus, but other than wanting to be on his feet again, he couldn't think of anything. The dark spots under Solona's eyes tempered his desire to protest further, knowing that if he got up and tore his wounds she would just further exhaust herself trying to patch him up. Poor thanks that would be. Finally he nodded, and Solona looked relieved. "I would like to see him."

Nodding, Solona made to stand and stopped half way from rising out of her chair, suddenly finding Aedan's right hand on her wrist.

"Thank you." He said simply, and then let her go.

Outside the rebel Highever soldiers had wound down for the night. Tents were pitched, a fire in the center of camp was greedily devouring anything that the men threw on it, and the smell of stew was thick in the air. Night had settled on the land in full, and those who were just coming back from patrols around their camp were shrugging off their armor gratefully, talking amongst themselves in low voices. Many of them bore blood-stained bandages on various body parts, for it seemed that no one in camp managed to get through completely unscathed. Solona had done her best, but she only had so much strength to keep healing and only so many lyrium potions on her person. Of her stock, only one was left, and she was determined to keep that for an emergency only. In this company, using blood magic to supplement her dwindling mana was entirely out of the question.

Some of the soldiers gave her a small greeting as she passed, and Solona returned them with a nod of her head. The tent that Fergus stayed in wasn't very far away so she didn't have to keep a cheery smile for very long as she traversed the distance. There were voices inside when she got to the slightly larger than average tent, and she immediately recognized one as Fergus, the other probably Brom, the burly man that Aedan had chosen as his second in command. Moving the flap of the tent aside, she poked her head in to see what was going on before clearing her throat as a means of announcing her presence.

The two men had been talking to each other over a table full of papers, and each looked up when they heard her, the conversation waning. Fergus motioned for Solona to come in, then picked up a piece of paper and studied it briefly. "We'll continue through the Bannorn, then." He said definitively, rolling up the paper, which turned out to be a map of Ferelden and handed it to Brom. "We'll make better time as long as we don't run into any more stragglers. The Highway is safer, but the longer we stay out here the worse things will be. Who knows when the survivors of that fight will get word back to Howe, and how long it will take him to respond? I'd rather weather the open country, civil war or no civil war."

Brom made a noise of understanding, tucked the map under his arm along with several other folded and rolled bits of paper then excused himself, bowing first to Fergus then nodding to Solona and disappeared out of the tent. Only when he was gone did Fergus heave a great big sigh, knocking his fist lightly on the thin wooden table and turned his attention to Solona. "I hope it's good news." His face was troubled, and with good reason. The first day after the two brothers had been reunited everyone was absolutely sure that Aedan was going to die. It seemed impossible that he would survive such terrible wounds, but one of the men had been trained as a field surgeon, and with a little magical assistance from Solona, they had saved him from the brink of death. After that it had been beyond the man's ability to influence the situation one way or the other, and it had been declared a matter best left in the hands of the Maker. Other men needed his attention desperately, and they had no choice but to let him go about his duties.

Yesterday had been a series of near misses, and even with Solona spending every ounce of extra energy she had on keeping Aedan alive, he was still off in a bad way. It was for these reasons that Fergus saw the mage woman's coming as something to be wary of. Every time she made an appearance, there seemed to be more bad news.

Solona smiled, knowing what was probably going through the elder Cousland's head and dipped her head slightly out of respect. "He's awake. Aedan was asking after you."

For a moment Fergus seemed not to understand her words, then a smile broke out over his haggard features and he seemed to slump inward a little, as if a great weight had been taken off his shoulders. "Thank the Maker." He said with a sigh then straightened, looking more eager now. "How is he, then?"

"See for yourself." She replied, unable but to help smile. Fergus had been nothing but unhappy the past three days, so to see him loosened up was comforting. "He's very weak, but I doubt that he would be very pleased if I tried to keep you two apart."

"That sounds about right." Fergus confirmed with a hint of a smile, then blew out the candle hanging over the table and walked out of the tent, Solona following close behind. He walked with an even determined stride toward Aedan's tent, pausing only when he was directly outside of it, then turned to look at Solona. "You saved him." He said simply, meeting her eyes steadily. "I can't thank you enough for that. He's the only family I have left."

She couldn't find her voice to tell him that she would have done anything to save Aedan's life, and after a second of struggling to bring out the words she simply smiled and dipped her head, then quietly watched as Fergus went in. She almost walked in after him, her hand near the fabric of the tent, but paused and instead turned away. She had been with Aedan this entire time while Fergus had probably thought the younger man dead. The two brothers needed this reunion. Besides, she needed food and rest. Smiling to herself absently, she went over to the fire to see what was being served.

Inside the tent Fergus stood just on the threshold, looking Aedan over. He had his eyes closed at the moment, his skin unnaturally pale. Patches of red stood out strongly by his side where he knew that the deep sword wound was, some of it fresh. Those bandages would need changing soon to prevent an infection…

Taking a deep breath, Aedan opened his eyes and looked up, meeting Fergus' stare and grinned. "You look like you've seen a ghost." He managed through his dry throat, and instantly Fergus' attention was brought back to the present.

"I suppose I feel like I have." He replied with a weary grin, closing the distance between them and sat on the crate at Aedan's side. After a silent minute, he clapped his hand on Aedan's shoulder, giving him a rough pat. "Let's not make a habit of this, eh? I'll have to start pounding faces in if people keep trying to kill you."

That got a terse laugh out of Aedan, and he reached up to clasp Fergus just above his elbow. "Same to you! After Ostagar and that letter…" A look of pain flashed over Aedan's face briefly, and he squeezed Fergus' arm. "I should have looked harder for you." His voice dropped lower, nearly on the verge of cracking with restrained guilt. "I gave up after I heard about Ostagar. I should have looked…"

Fergus shook his head briefly, squeezing Aedan's shoulder back and then drawing his arm away so that he could lean his elbows against his knees. "I'm not sure you wouldn't have just been wasting your time, to be honest." Fergus replied with a shrug, his mood turning more sullen instantly. "I never made it to the battle at Ostagar. We were still scouting in the wilds when we were attacked by a party of darkspawn. Most of my men were killed. I woke up two weeks later in a Chasind hut, wounded and feverish. By the time I was able to sneak out of the wilds, things were already getting messy. I tried to get word to Highever. You can imagine what happened I suppose…"

Aedan nodded silently, his good fist clenching in silent anger. "I got the letter you sent to Oriana. Corbert got it from his granddaughter in Highever."

Fergus watched Aedan for a second, then raised his hand to brush back his hair in a messy sweep. "When I sent that, I hadn't gotten word of Highever yet. News in the south is slow, so it wasn't until days after I had seen the letter off that I realized it was a mistake. After escaping the Wilds, I went to Gwaren with the other refugees fleeing the Darkspawn, healed a little bit more from my encounter in the Wilds… Howe got the letter of course. He sent men after me pretending to be city guards with orders for my arrest. I knew by then what happened at Highever and had been getting ready to leave, so I fought them off and ran. At first I was just running _away_, but then I decided that I needed to go to Highever and see it for myself. Get revenge if I could. But those blasted assassins chased me all across the Bannorn. I was near the border of Amaranthine when I heard rumors that you were alive and recruiting in Denerim.

"I thought it was a trap at first, something to lure me out and make me a better target for those scoundrels but… I just thought that if there was a chance… _any_ chance that you were still alive then I would take any risk to see you again. But those assassins were still on my tail, and I wasn't going to lead them straight to you." He picked at a scab on the back of his hand absently, his features pulled into a frown. "I didn't think that I'd run straight into the middle of the civil war. Those Amaranthians would have had me if you didn't come along when you did."

"The Maker had a hand in brining us together again, I think." Aedan replied, looking up at the tent ceiling and laid his good hand over his bandage wrapped stomach. After a moment of quiet, he looked back over to Fergus, the barest hint of a smile on his face. "Now that we're together, we can bring that bastard down. Solona said that you took charge while I was unconscious."

Fergus nodded. "Aye, someone had to. I'm surprised to see a familiar face or two. I would have thought that Howe would have executed any loyalists."

"Perhaps he would have." Aedan replied with a shrug. "I wouldn't be surprised. He's certainly shown his heartless side. But they're for us, and that's what matters." He paused, looking at Fergus out of the corner of his eye. "I'm glad that you took over. Father always intended to pass on leadership to you."

Fergus didn't reply to that, instead studying the back of his hand with feigned interest. When he did look up though it was to change the topic, obviously discussing things that their father would have wanted being too painful a subject to broach just yet. "You've met some interesting people while I wasn't looking."

Aedan took the hint and smiled to himself. "You haven't even met the most interesting of them." At the curious look at Fergus shot him, Aedan allowed himself a private chuckle and retold the events that finally got him here, starting with meeting Solona at Redcliffe. He glossed over the parts where they were attacked by Templars and took to the Brecilian in order to hide, and if Fergus noticed the omission, he said nothing. Likewise he left out the encounter in the Fade with Solona's demon, deeming that that would be a conversation for another time, if that time were to come at all.

For his part, Fergus seemed keenly interested in Aedan's dealings with Kallian and the raid that had lead to finding the incriminating documents that would put Howe in league with the slavers. When Aedan told him about the Wardens, Fergus stopped him briefly to ask a few questions and recall some rumors on the road about the nature of the Wardens and their supposed involvement in Ostagar that had lead to ruin. Aedan confirmed that he'd heard those rumors as well and had even confronted the Wardens on the topic, but reassured Fergus that he was under the impression that the rumors were Loghain propaganda.

At the end of his tale Aedan let Fergus digest all of the information and take everything into account at his own pace. A lot had happened in the past few months and both of them had their stories to consider in the big scheme of things. Finally, Fergus leaned back on the crate, for the moment satisfied with the information Aedan had given him. "Interesting friends." He repeated with a nod to himself, then glanced at the flap of the tent. "Loyal, too, from what I've seen. The men were reluctant to take command from anyone else, even if it was just to leave the battle field and get as far away as we could before reinforcements arrived. The mage girl, Solona… she's very attached to you. Barely left your side the whole time you were out."

Again he felt that peculiar twist in his chest and searched Fergus' face for a hint of what he expected to hear. When his older brother gave nothing away, Aedan simply sighed. He was too tired to play politics, and didn't particularly want to anyway with Fergus. "We've been together since the beginning of all… this." He waved his hand weakly in the air, the gesture meaning to encompass everything; the war, the Blight, Ferelden… "I trust her with my life. I've _trusted_her with my life before, and I'm not dead yet. Mage or woman… it doesn't really matter. I can rely on her without reservation, and that's worth more than what I can say."

Fergus seemed satisfied with that answer and nodded in apparent approval, though his expression seemed sad for the briefest of moments. "Good, I'm glad that there's someone around here that can be trusted."

A small noise attracted their attention, and both looked over to see Solona standing there, looking tired and a bit sheepish with a bowl in her hand. "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting." She said, looking between the two.

Aedan got a whiff of the contents of the bowl and instantly his stomach growled loud enough for everyone to hear. "Oh blessed Andraste… soup has never smelled so good in my life."

Fergus chuckled and stood, patting Aedan on the shoulder. "We were done for now anyway. Get some rest. We're moving again in the morning." Aedan nodded and Fergus bid both a good night, leaving the tent and sparing Solona an approving nod as he left, disappearing outside.

Walking in, Solona set the bowl down on the recently unoccupied crate and moved behind Aedan in an effort to help him sit up without straining his wound too much. "I'm glad you're well enough to have talked so long. Fergus was worried that you might not recover. He put on a tough face, but I knew he was worried sick." She smiled to herself, recalling the way that he'd made several attempts to get into Aedan's tent, only to stop himself and walk away with his best business attitude he could muster. With some grumbling and pained gasps she managed to get Aedan sitting upright and after expending some of her preciously stored energy on his side, she sat and handed him the bowl of soup. "You haven't eaten in three days, so take it slow."

If not for her warning, Aedan probably would have tried to inhale the soup as fast as he could. As it was, he tried to ignore the growling demands of his stomach and deliberately ate slow. Solona filled him in on the events of the past three days while he ate, from after he'd fallen unconscious and loaded him into the supply wagon as a means of transportation until today when they'd finally broken camp after putting a considerable distance between themselves and the battlefield. They were half a day from River Dane and heading south through the Bannorn and would try to cross the straights between Lake Calenhad and Lothering in an effort to avoid the front lines of the Darkspwan horde. Fergus had a better idea of where they were lurking than most, and wasn't at all intent on coming close to them if they didn't have to.

By the time she was done recounting the events of the past few days Aedan was done with his soup and she helped him to lay back down again. "We'll be moving again in the morning." She warned in a soft voice, making sure he was settled before taking his bowl. "Rest well. It's a few days yet to Redcliffe, more if we have to go through Lothering. It won't do if you have to appear before Arl Eamon half dead."

She smiled for him, and Aedan was grateful for the jest. "I'll keep that in mind." He replied feeling exceedingly tired now that hunger wasn't clawing him awake. Just as Solona got up, he opened his mouth to speak again. "I was afraid he wouldn't want to see me." Aedan admitted in a quiet and obviously tired voice. He wasn't sure why he was confiding this now. Perhaps it was the blood loss that was messing with his self-restraint.

Solona blinked at that, settling the bowl more firmly in her hands. "What do you mean?" She asked, resettling on the crate. "Are you talking about Fergus?"

"Yes…" He replied with a sighed, closing his eyes.

"Why? He was worried about you the whole time. He wanted to see you well again so badly."

After a pause that stretched so long that Solona had begun to expect that he'd fallen asleep, Aedan took a deep breath and turned to look at her. "I keep feeling like I've failed him, like he should blame me for what happened at Highever. His wife and child… mother and father… I was to be the one that was left in charge, to protect Highever… I couldn't even get through the one night."

Solona bit her lip briefly, the obvious pain in Aedan's heart that was seething just beneath the surface tugging on her heartstrings. "You can't think that of yourself." Aedan simply shot her a baleful look at that and she leaned forward, placing her hand over his good one lightly. The Aedan I know would do anything to protect the people that he cared about. I believe that on that night you did everything you could. I _know_ that you would have done everything you could to protect your family and your home, and I think that Fergus knows that too. I think he's just happy that you're alive, that you made it out and he's not the only one left. Just like you."

Aedan stared at Solona for a second, then turned his hand palm up and squeezed Solona's fingers gently. "Thank you."

Seeing his weariness Solona quickly excused herself by blowing out the candle that hovered near his cot and left the tent. Once outside she heaved a small sigh and placed a hand to her chest where her heart fluttered uncontrollably. She hadn't meant to eaves drop on the two brothers, but once she'd heard her name she couldn't help but to listen in for a moment or two. Solona had always known that Aedan trusted her. In fact, he'd said as much to her face. But it was something else entirely to hear him speak so well of her character to his brother. Then trusting her again with one of his fears that he'd kept hidden for so long… That was just another level of trust that made her heart warm.

Feeling lighter than it had since she'd seen Aedan fall in battle, she headed back to the impromptu mess tent and handed the bowl over, then went to her own small one-man tent and turned in for the night, utterly exhausted.

* * *

><p>IT'S FRIDAY, FRIDAY! THIS STORY UPDATES ON FRIDAAAAY~!<p>

Really people? Really? You'd _actually_ think that I would kill a main character half way through the story? I suppose it's telling of my writing style and how many emotional roller coasters I've put you and the characters through that nobody called me on my BS. I only got one death threat. Very sad.

In other news, I'll try and keep up on the chapter updates from now on. I've finished all the major quest lines in Skyrim, and I'm about half way through AC:Revelations, so the video games are slowly taking up less and less of my life. Luckily, I have a buffer chapter now, so WE SHALL SEE!

PS: I missed you all


	33. Fortitude

_A horse cart passed over her head, the wheels turning and squeaking and rattling as if they passed over a bumpy road, an invisible horse leading it over an invisible road that tracked through the sky. She sat in a small clearing, perched on a rock with her ankles crossed and dangling over the side. If she slipped forward it would only be a short drop into a wealth of heather that blanketed the ground in front of her, the smell of the plants drifting up to where she sat. Everything was bathed in the shifting greenish light of the Fade, but even without that hint she would know that she was dreaming. It was too quiet, too peaceful, and always she felt something __**other**__ lurking just off to the side where she couldn't see it. She had given up looking for it days ago; knowing that the demons that watched her hungrily from the shadows did not want to be found. So she was content to let them linger and lurk. As long as they left her alone, she had no quarrel with them or desire to get into any fights._

_Killing Mouse had given her a brief reprieve from the demons that normally haunted her. They had seen the death of the greater demon as a warning, but their memories seemed just as short as they were long here in this timeless place, and eventually one or two began to grow bold again. They were easy enough to dispatch, of course. Fighting a foe as worthy as Mouse gave one a different perspective on other weaker demon-kind. She was no longer afraid, and that lack of fear gave the others pause and less to hold on to when trying to manipulate her. Their illusions seemed to lack something essential in them as well, something that she couldn't quite place but certainly __**felt**__ as keenly as she saw._

_So she sat on her rock, content with the false peace and hummed to herself an old tune that came from her childhood, originating in that fuzzy span of memory from when she lived with her parents. The false serenity gave her some rest from the hectic pace that waking life brought every time she woke up, what with the party of rebels always on the move, always worrying about who might be over the next hill, and taking care of those injured in the skirmishes they were forced to engage in when a small band of soldiers heading for the civil war crossed their path. But here, there was none of that, and for just a little while she could rest. If only there were someone to share this peace with here._

_Mistaking her calm for absentmindedness, one of the demons slunk into the clearing, a glowing hot spirit of Wrath that slunk toward her like some slug made of lava. Before the creature could even begin to conjure up her childhood past and the trauma of being taken from her family, Solona turned on the creature, shoving her willpower in it's molten face and summoned a blast of cold air that froze its form. It screamed and retreated, overwhelmed by the mental force that Solona displayed as its form darkened and cracked, turning black under the frosty air._

_Satisfied that the creature wouldn't bother her again, Solona sniffed and went back to her humming, knocking the back of her heels against the rock she was perched on and looked to the ever changing sky._

_Then she felt it._

_**Something**__ lurked beyond the ring of shifting trees before her, and though she was alarmed by its presence it felt like no demon that she had ever encountered. Looking around, Solona tried to spot whatever it was with her eyes as the force seemed to come closer, but had no luck. Quiet suddenly, a small bird dropped out of the sky, a common house sparrow, and it landed on her knee, staring up at her with small beady eyes. Its form wavered as all things did in the Fade, tendrils of mist streaming behind its movements._

"_Greetings." A deep voice boomed, and the shadows that had been lurking under the trees seemed to slink away from the sound._

_For a moment, Solona wasn't sure where the voice had come from, looking for some large creature to come out of the ring of trees, then she realized that it was the bird that had spoken in the deep voice, and couldn't help but to openly stare at the creature. "Greetings?"_

_The bird hopped further up her knee, flicking its head from side to side as it looked at her in the peculiar manner that birds moved, fluttered its wings once and seemed satisfied. "You mortals are very strange." The bird deduced after a while, its deep voice reverberating in Solona's chest, powerful and strong despite its tiny size. "You are demon touched, and yet you do not let them in. Why is that?"_

_She didn't need an explanation as to what the creature meant, realizing immediately that it could probably sense her blood magic and perhaps any mark that Mouse may have left on her Fade-self before he died. "I don't want to be one of them." She replied simply, wondering what exactly it was that the bird wanted. It didn't feel like a demon, but she couldn't think of anything else that it could be. Maybe a spirit, but spirits weren't known for freely interacting with humans. "I accepted their knowledge in a moment of weakness, but I won't be so weak again. My mind and body are my own. They can not take it from me."_

_The bird fluffed up its feathers and gave a series of shrill melodic chirps. "Very good!" It cooed, hopping to her other knee and peering at her even harder than before. "You are very strong, as you must be. Your fortitude is remarkable, despite your squishy, immutable nature. I could learn from that, I think."_

"_Learn from it?" Solona asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. "What could you learn from me? And if you don't mind me asking, what __**are**__ you?"_

_The bird ruffled its feathers and dipped its head. "Fortitude." It replied simply, cocking its head at her in return. "It is what I am, and what I strive to be. I am the power that lives within a soul, the force that overcomes all obstacles when Hope isn't enough."_

_Solona's eyes went wide with wonder. "A spirit!" She whispered, bending slightly to get a better look at the small bird perched on her knee. "I have never seen one of your kind like this."_

_Fortitude watched her, but didn't bounce away, instead preening its tiny feathers with a tiny beak. "Mortals are usually not very interesting." The bird replied. "You are interesting, though. You have good fortitude, like me. I have never seen one of your kind like this." It echoed her words back to her, and Solona got the impression that it was amused by its own wordplay. "I want to see you persevere."_

"_You will… be watching me, then?" She asked, holding her finger close to where Fortitude stood on her knee and the bird fluttered on, keeping balance as she lifted her hand so that she could look the tiny bird in the eye._

"_Yes." Fortitude bobbed its head sharply. "I will be close. I strive to become my namesake, and I feel that you can add to my path, mortal. Your body is weak, so if your fleshy self begins to fail, call me with your will, and I might be able to help."_

_Her heart beat faster at the deal the little bird was proposing, and took a moment to collect herself and think. "You don't want to see beyond the Veil?"_

_Fortitude ruffled, making a disappointed noise. "Nay, what would I gain by looking at your silly world that is unchangeable and unchanging? I like it here just fine, thank you. It is the strength of self that I seek, not idle tourism. Leave that to the pesky dark ones that lurk in the shadows."_

"_I…" She had no words to express her feelings. The utter bewilderment that a spirit had chosen __**her**__, the relief of knowing that she wasn't alone in the Fade anymore. It was simply too much to say, so she ran her finger over the strangely liquid-like feathers on Fortitude's back. "Thank you so much."_

_The bird ruffled its feathers then dipped its head. "I will be near." Fortitude jumped off her finger in a flutter of wings and tracked an unsteady path toward the sky where it was enveloped in blindingly bright light. A loud roar echoed over the plains of the Fade, and she only saw a hint of movement against the blue-green sky as the Spirit disappeared._

•º•.•º•

"No. No no no no! If you keep flailing around like that, then you're gonna get stuck in the belly an' then where would you be?" Kallian shouted, obviously aggravated and folded her fists against her hips, dual swords still in hand.

Across from her, Sticker's younger brother Elai looked properly chastened, the daggers in his hand wavering slightly. Though from nervousness or exhaustion, one would be hard-pressed to tell. The boy had recovered somewhat from his broken nose that Kallian had given him upon their first meeting, his face still bearing the ugly purple and yellow splotches of a receding bruise. "I'm sorry." He mumbled, dipping his head in shame.

"Don't be sorry!" Kallian replied with an aggravated sigh. "Get _better!_ When you're out there, the guards ain't gonna play nice 'cuz you're a kid. Yer an _elf_, an' that's reason enough that they'd be likely ter try an' kill ya. Now again!" She raised her swords and Elai jumped into a defensive position just in time to keep Kallian from running him through, making a sloppy double parry that threw Kallian off course, but not out of control.

Others watched the two fight, Sticker amongst them with his shoulder leaning against a beam and a grim look on his face. Kallian had taken a personal interest in seeing to Elai's training. While he knew that none here at the Knifers knew their way around a dagger better than the red-headed elf, Sticker still wasn't entirely pleased with the arrangement. All the hard work he'd done to keep Elai out of the Life… Gone. Logically, he knew that Kallian was not responsible for the turn of fate, that she was just making the best of a bad situation. But his frustration had to go somewhere, and so tensions between himself and Kallian had gotten worse in the past handful of days. He threw himself at patrol opportunities, looking to burn off some excess anger and for the most part it worked. But watching Elai fight and get good at it so fast… That set him to getting frustrated all over again.

Down in the sparring ring Kallian called a hold to the training for the time being when Elai made a bad step and nearly twisted his ankle, falling on the dirt floor with a pronounced _thud_. Two others came forward, taking Kallian and Elai's place in the ring and resumed fighting while the two got something to drink. She handed the younger boy a flagon, and he gratefully took the watered down wine and drank greedily, thankful for a break.

"You're gettin' better." Kallian said after a moment of drinking and silence, watching the others out in the ring. "It'll be easier after you hit your growth spurt. You'll probably be taller than your brother, I reckon, an' you'll get a better reach. That'll help you in a fight."

Elai nodded, smiling at the praise and took another drink. Then, as if struck by an idea, he suddenly turned to look at Kallian, wide-eyed and curious. "How old are you?" He asked, cocking his head to the side.

For some reason Kallian felt like that was a deeply personal question, and turned her eyes toward the stone ceiling of the Highever Estate's basement as she tried to recall the date. "I'll be eighteen in… four months."

She didn't realize that Elai's eyes could get any bigger, but they did, and the boy looked properly awed. "Your da didn't get you married an' send you away?"

Kallain smiled sadly at the boy's innocence and naïveté, for obviously he wasn't aware that it was _her_ wedding that had taken place months ago to only end in great tragedy. "He tried."

Elai settled back against the stone pillar, still keeping his eyes firmly glued on Kallian. "I thought you were older." He admitted sheepishly, fingering the lip of his flagon. "You're good with knives an' people, so I just figured…"

Reaching over, Kallian ruffled Elai's hair until the boy backed out of the way, looking slightly bewildered. "It don't matter how old you are as long as you do what ya need to do. People'll follow you if ya get things done. Understand?"

Slowly, Elai nodded, not quite understanding but not wanting to show that he didn't get it. The dinner bell rang then, and those training in the sparring ring stopped what they were doing to go to the mess hall. After dinner was over Kallian talked with the other Knifers that would be out on patrols that night and when they broke the leader of their little group was left to her own devices.

She didn't stay standing around for long, grabbing her own gear and headed out after the others a few minuets after their departure. Once out of the gates that ringed the Highever estate, she took to the roofs, her feet taking her directly to the Arl of Denerim estate. Kallian had been there many times over the past week, though had never gotten close enough to rouse the suspicion of the guards. As she walked along however, she began to notice that there was a shadow following in her wake. Her pace increased, and she leapt from rooftop to rooftop, heading always in the same direction then when she had sensed that whoever was following her was around a corner, she grabbed the edge of a chimney and swung behind it, putting her back to the stone and waited with bated breath.

A familiar figure darted by, his orange hair immediately giving him away in the night, and Kallian stepped out of the shadow of the chimney. "Sticker? What're you on about?" She called quietly, knowing that he would hear.

He skidded to a halt, knocking loose some shingles under his feet and came to a stop before careening off the edge of the building. Whipping around, he found Kallian quickly, then relaxed, but never let his guard down fully. She could see the way that his jaw clenched, like he was chewing on something sticky. He looked a bit frustrated, perhaps at being caught, but he came closer to Kallian anyway, standing just outside swinging distance and crossed his arms over his chest. "I want to know what this is all about with Elai." His protective older brother side was coming out, and he knew it, but he couldn't help being protective of Elai. The boy had no place here, and the rapid acceleration of his skills under Kallian's training was unsettling.

Heaving a large sigh, Kallian dipped her head briefly and crossed her arms over her chest as well, taking a moment to think. "I don't have any siblings." She finally admitted, meeting Sticker's gaze. "But I wasn't my ma's only baby."

Sticker inwardly recoiled at hearing that, wondering what he had just stuck his foot into. Kallian noticed his discomfort with the subject immediately, but she wanted to set this matter straight. Having him looming over her shoulder all the time and questioning her judgments was starting to get annoying, even if he was just looking out for his brother. "Miscarriages an' plagues are common place, yanno. She tried hard to have kids before me, an' they went to the Void, one way or another. I had a little brother too once. He lived about a year an' then caught the wheezes an' died a few months after that. Then my ma didn't want to try for no more babies, an' even if she did, she got in trouble with the guards an' got killed. I had Soris an' Shianni fer a brother an' a sister then, my cousins. But now I ain't got them either. I don't know if they're dead, or alive or in jail or shipped off to slavers. Maybe they took my pa too, I don't know. But they was the only family I had, an' now I ain't got none of that.

"It was my fault Sola lost Norris. I didn't want her to loose her brother an' be alone like me, an' I don't wanna see that happen to _you_ either. Outside the Alienage, anythin' goes. You know that. You've been part of the Life longer than I have. If he's gonna be out here, then we can't be coddlin' him. I don't want another dead boy on my hands." Her speech delivered, Kallian waited to see what Sticker had to say, watching him closely in the dark.

Sticker drew a long breath and tried to resist the urge to squirm, finding himself at a loss. Eventually, he found his words. "Thanks for lookin' out for him, then. He's just a kid an' doesn't know the first thing about what it takes to live like… this."

"I know." Kallian replied easily. "He's too sweet to be cut out for this. That's why he's gotta be ready."

Sticker nodded and looked up to the Arl of Denerim's estate just a few streets over from where the two stood. "Why do you come here all the time?"

Her gaze flicked to the fortress-like estate surrounded by its high walls and patrolling guardsmen. "Because I got a score to settle." She replied honestly, hooking her fingers in her belts at her hip. "There's a man sittin' high an' mighty in that castle playin' with the lives of what family I do got left an' he's gonna pay for that." _And if Vaughn is still in the dungeons, Maker help him because when I find him he's gonna pay in blood._

Sticker watched the emotions play across Kallian's face, her hatred clear as a bell in the moonlight. He looked to the castle once again, thoughtful. "You want the plans to the keep?"

Kallian's gaze instantly snapped to Sticker's face, curious and questioning. "What?"

"Old gang I used to run with was planning a heist in the estate." Sticker explained briefly, nodding at the estate and turned his attention to Kallian. "We got maps of the place and marked entrance points and tunnels. It was going to be the biggest job we ever pulled, but it got called off when ownership changed hands. Didn't know the guard patterns anymore an' needed to start over again. If we pay em' a visit, we might be able to get our hands on the maps."

She thought about it for a few moments, weighing the pros and cons. From her time in the prison Kallian could have tracked the route from where she had initially woken up after being abducted to the Arl's suite and down to the dungeon, but beyond that was mostly unfamiliar with the territory. "Didn't you quit your old gang?"

Sticker snorted. "_Escaped_ it, is more like it. Nobody _leaves_ their gang, you know that."

Kallian nodded in agreement. It wasn't uncommon for gangs to swear to a faction for life. Leaving a gang was about on the same level as being a traitor or sell-out, and anybody trying to get out of the Life stood a good chance of being beat to death by enraged gang mates. "So they ain't gonna be happy to see you."

"Well, they won't see me at all if I can help it." Sticker replied with a telling grin. "You're good at sneaking, right?" An answering grin from Kallian was good enough for him. "Tomorrow night then. We'll pay a visit to my old mates."

"Tomorrow night." Kallian agreed readily, unable to help the feeling of elation that welled up within her at the idea. One step closer.

* * *

><p>Specialization #2: Spirit Healer yaaaaaaaaaaay<p>

For those concerned with Elai's understandability, worry no more. Talking with a broken nose, split lip and bit tongue is hard, but he has luckily recovered (mostly) from that trauma and will now speak like a normal person. Next chapter: _Mission Improbable! Sticker faces his old gang-mates?_ Haha, if this were a TV show, that's what Kallian's voice actor would say. Anyway, see ya'll next week!


	34. The Heist

Moonlight shimmered uncertainly on the surface of the rolling ocean. The seas were calm, gently lapping against Denerim's shores. On the docks all was quiet and only those who weren't supposed to be out and about were slinking silently through the shadows. On top of a roof overlooking the sea-side warehouses were two elves, Kallian and Sticker watching all the events going on below from their hiding place in the shadow of a chimney.

Their gazes were intent on a particular warehouse a street away that, though seemingly abandoned had the distinct look of being inhabited. Every few minuets a shadowed figure would walk by the warehouse, a normal enough occurrence except that it was always the same person. A watch guard stationed on the street. Another walked the roof, looking out at the city below for possible threats.

"So, we sneak past those two, slip through the front door, and I'll watch your back as you make a grab for the maps." Kallian murmured, watching the patrolling guards. "They got this place under wraps good."

"Yeah, the boss got cautious after our old base was dug up by some guards. The idiots found it on accident, lookin' for a place to store some goods they'd swindled." Sticker explained briefly, watching the guards pacing as well. "The inside won't be so secure. Hopefully, the pigs'll be dead drunk by now, unless their routine changed since I left." He sounded doubtful of that, his face expressing the same.

"Well then…" Kallian stood, cracking her back and loosening her shoulders. "Let's get on it, then. No sense in waitin' much longer." Sticker nodded and the two slipped off the roof and into the shadows of the street. The two moved noiselessly through the shadows, attracting no notice from the guard on the street as he lazily patrolled the front of the warehouse. An alleyway between where they were trying to go and the wall they were hiding by loomed as a bright patch of empty space in front of them. By unspoken agreement Sticker went first, darting across the empty space.

On the roof the sentry saw a flicker of movement and paused, doubling back to take a closer look at the alley. Kallian held perfectly still, pressing her back flat against the wall behind her and waited. The sentry looked right where she was standing twice but didn't seem to see her. After a moment of searching the alleyways the man turned back to his routine, mumbling about cats.

Releasing her breath slowly, Kallian looked to make sure the other sentry wasn't looking then darted across the open space and the two silently ran to the door while remaining under the shadow of the eaves. Sticker opened the door and stepped inside, Kallian following quickly after. The moment she was over the threshold she was assaulted by the potent smell of a cooking fire mixed with a strong overly of body odor and singed hair. In short, it smelled exactly like how she imagined a warehouse full of men would.

The warehouse was both for storage of cargo and boats, two channels of deep water cut out in the floor for docking. One of the wet docks was already occupied by a boat that Kallian could just barely see over a mountain of unevenly packed crates that stretched toward the ceiling. The walls were hidden by similarly disordered stacks of crates, making any number of excellent hiding places.

The two elves took advantage of them immediately as a couple of men walked by; talking and laughing boisterously in the way that men did when they were on their second pint of strong ale. Once they'd passed and were headed to the other side where the boats were, Sticker broke cover and lead the way to a set of sliding paneled doors that stretched high to the ceiling. They were half open, just wide enough to allow people to pass through unhindered. Sticker wasted no time passing over the threshold and quickly hid behind another stack of crates that took up a quarter of the room.

Kallian crouched next to him, observing the obstacle before them. Five men sat at the bench table eating in front of the cook fire that was smelling up the whole warehouse. Beyond that was an open faced room filled with bunks, some of which were occupied by sleeping men, and a few that were sitting up still and chatting. Sticker pointed out where they needed to go; a door to the right of them hidden by the shadows of yet another mound of crates that was serving as a wall between the eating area and the sleeping area. The door's outline was defined by the soft light of a candle around the edges, marking it clearly despite the hard shadows being thrown over it. Open space loomed between them once again and before Kallian could begin formulating a plan to cross the space unnoticed, Sticker tapped her on the shoulder and pointed up.

The rafters above were shrouded in darkness, but as far as Kallian could see they would get them where they needed to go. Nodding in understanding, she looked to the drinkers once more before standing slowly and started the perilous climb up the crates. When they got to the top she was too short to reach the beams, so she gave Sticker a hand up and once he managed to balance himself, he braced his chest against the beam and hauled Kallian up by the hand.

The rafters squeaked under their weight initially, but if any of the drinkers below heard, they didn't look up to inspect the noise. Sticker paused a moment to make sure that Kallian was properly balanced before traversing the rafter, quick light steps taking him over the length of it with only the occasional squeak of old wood and shifting of dust to mark his presence to those below. Kallain followed with similar movements, and when they reached the other side Sticker sized up the distance between them and the mound of crates below. It was a fair drop, probably too far to fall without making a great deal of noise. Carefully he crouched on the beam as close as he could get to the highest standing crate slipped off, catching himself from falling by holding onto the beam with his hands.

The wood groaned in protest to the movement, more dust shaking off of the rafters farther up near the ceiling. Below, the conversation waned a bit, the others listening to see if the roof would make the noise again before picking back up their conversations, waving off the noise as the old warehouse settling.

Sticker let go of the beam when one of the drinking thieves cracked a joke, making the others at the table laugh loudly. He landed with a soft _thump_ on the top of the box but nobody paused from their drinking this time. Relieved that so far they hadn't been caught, Kallian hung off the rafter as well, Sticker catching her around the waist when she let go and noiselessly set her down on the top of the crate. They didn't pause long; the two elves making the tense climb down from the box mountain, Kallian stopping on a crate that was just above the floor as Sticker continued down toward the door that was their goal.

She waited and watched as he went inside, opening the door slowly to prevent the old hinges from squeaking too loud. It smelled a bit like a brewery in the room which was no surprise given the two kegs of unspecified liquid resting in their cradles near the left wall. In the middle of the room was a long dining table that had seen better days, the surface scarred from knives and pitted with stab marks, the legs missing chunks from being repeatedly kicked. On the opposite side was a small bunk hidden behind the casks, a man lying there partially under the covers with a bottle of something in his slack hands and was snoring loud enough to wake the dead.

Not daring to close the door after himself, Sticker stood and looked over the table scattered with papers. Some were just writing, others numbers, and a handful were maps. He crept around the table, shuffling the documents as quietly as he could as he looked for the plans to the Denerim estate. Once he was sure he was caught, the snoring man on the bunk ceasing in his noise making abruptly to turn over. Standing dead still Sticker watched as the man lifted the bottle in his hands to his lips, took a swig, swallowed, then got comfortable again and resumed snoring.

Wrinkling his nose in disgust, Sticker started going through the papers a little faster and when he didn't see what he was looking for turned toward the dresser on the wall opposite the bunk. The candle lighting the room was perched there, casting unsteady light on his work as he opened the drawers and rifled through the documents, fake signets, lock picks and empty bottles of booze and ink. Just when he was about to give up he opened one of the lower drawers and found the plans he was looking for. Withholding the urge to sigh with relief he folded the papers and tucked them away in a pouch on his belt. Glancing up one last time to make sure that the man in the bed was still asleep, he went back outside, closing the door behind him gently and gave Kallian the thumb's up.

Nodding in understanding, she turned to start climbing the boxes again and head to the safety of the rafters. She only got one step up when a man, bottle in hand, came swaggering around the corner. "Oi, Ilan! We got an idea-"

He stopped dead, spotting the two elves, and there was an tense moment of silence as the two parties stared at each other, unsure what to do. Then the man opened his mouth to yell for help and Kallian launched from her place on the mountain of crates, drawing her dagger from her belt in the same swift motion and slit his throat.

It was too late, however; he'd already made a noise and the sound of his body falling to the floor attracted the attention of the others. Sticker started running, Kallian following hot on his heels as they abandoned any pretense of being sneaky and simply made a mad break for the exit. Those who were drinking at the table leapt after them once they saw the elves break cover, the time it took for them to stand giving the two enough time to reach the sliding door long before them.

Sticker wasn't sure what he'd hit until he'd danced out of the way of trouble, having collided with the chest of a large man who was coming in from the warehouse. The man shouted in surprise, but Kallian was not so lucky. He had been warned already when Sticker shot by, and when he saw the smaller elf try and do the same he reached out and grabbed her around the wrist, tugging her to an abrupt stop and twisted her arm behind her back, bringing the elf against his chest.

Kallian gasped in pain, finding herself suddenly caught and lashed out with her drawn dagger. The man's hand stopped her, clamping around her other wrist and twisting it until she was forced to let go, taking her weapon as his own and immediately brandishing it against her.

Sticker went to help extract Kallian from her attacker, but stopped abruptly when the man looked up, meeting him dead in the eye and laughed, the others from inside coming to back him up now.

"So, you run off an' get yourself a girl, is that right knife ear?" The man asked, his stale breath blowing into Kallian's face as he pinned her against his chest, his meaty arm preventing her escape and the knife at her throat preventing her from being reckless.

"Yeah, I did. Let her go Farst, she ain't who you're angry at." Sticker replied without hesitation, his stony glare centered on the dirty man. The two men obviously had some history, the glares that they cast at each other telling a novel's worth of tales about the enmity they felt for each other.

He laughed, jerking Kallian as she made another bid at wiggling out of his grasp. "It don't work that way an' you know it." Farst grinned, rubbing the blade against Kallian's neck and she shied away from it as best she could. "We'll take yer girl as consolation, _then_ beat yer face in for leavin'. After we cut off your dirty thieving hands, that is." The others laughed at that, their murderous intent clear.

"Don't you lay a hand on me you rotten gutter sucking swine." Kallian hissed, trying again to wrench out of Farst's arms.

"Damn mouthy bitch you got Sticker." Farst growled. "We'll fix 'er for you, don't worry." With a feral grin he grabbed at Kallian' breast roughly, squeezing hard before moving his hand and tugged at her shirt until the thin fabric tore.

Kallian went utterly still, her body ridged as a plank with her eyes gone wide in fear. Her mind was screaming at her to do something, the utter terror of being helpless and trapped while some dirty man had his way with her roared to the surface with a vengeance. She didn't think anymore. There was no room left for thinking. The wild need to escape consumed her.

The font of her shirt ripped almost in half, caught only by the hem at the bottom. Farst seemed pleased that he'd cowed the elf girl into submission so easily, and then he doubled over in pain, nearly retching when an elbow suddenly slammed into his stomach.

Kallian turned, felt something tug at her neck and there was a brief flash of pain but she ignored it. Balling her fist, she punched Farst in the throat then slammed the flat of her palm into his nose, breaking it with a crunch and a spray of blood. He flailed his dagger weakly as a means of defense against the sudden assault and Kallian simply took the weapon from him. She stabbed it into his belly, turned the blade and wrenched it out of his side. Blood coated her hands and side, and Farst's entrails spilt out onto the floor. He collapsed, trying to hold them in as his blood splattered on Kallian's boots, but she didn't stop to watch him die.

They would all die. All of these leering men that wanted to harm her. She would kill them all. No man would ever touch her again.

Sticker watched, half amazed and half horrified as Kallian dove into the fray, covered in spattered blood and nearly half naked yet seemingly unconcerned by that fact. The air became thick with the metallic tang of blood and Sticker began to notice that she was _enjoying_ the slaughter, her lips pulled back in a feral grin, bleeding from half a dozen wounds, but never tiring. She was caught in the battle rage, and when one of the men who had been fighting her disengaged to run away, she threw her dagger at him, the blade sinking into his flesh just under his left shoulder blade.

The two elves didn't stay outnumbered for long, the thugs either fleeing or dying to Kallian's rage and Sticker's precision strikes as he tried to cover her flank. She slashed the last one through the throat and as he fell Kallian followed him, stabbing him repeatedly in the chest and spitting curses. Finding that they were suddenly alone except for a few bodies, Sticker looked around to make sure that there was no one left to fight before going to Kallian and standing behind her as she still stabbed the lifeless body.

"Kallian…" He mumbled, not sure what to make of her. She didn't seem to hear him though. "Kallian!" Still there was no response, then the blade she was using broke off at the hilt in the dead man's chest and she stared at it, seemingly bewildered.

Kneeling, Sticker reached out to put a hand on her shoulder. "Kallian, he's dead, you don't have-"

The second his fingers brushed her skin Kallian whirled, back handing Sticker across the face with her fist then slammed the broken dagger against his shoulder. If the blade had been whole it would have probably killed him, but instead she broke his collarbone, making any number of small lesions with the sharp points of the broken blade.

Sticker drew back quickly with a cry of pain, staring at Kallian, and she stared back, broken blade in hand. Suddenly she gasped and dropped the weapon with a clatter. "Oh Maker…" She whispered her eyes going wide and watery. "I'm so sorry Sticker, I never woulda… I didn't mean…" Then she broke down in earnest, wrapping her arms around herself and sitting on her knees with a bowed head, sniffling and trembling. "I'm sorry." She mumbled again, her voice small and didn't look up at him.

Sticker was stunned, both by the pain in his arms and the sudden transformation. He'd _never_ seen Kallian cry. _Ever_. It was only after staring at her for a long moment that he realized blood was pouring out of her neck from a knife wound. "Kallian, you're _bleeding._ A lot!"

Startled, Kallian reached up and touched her neck, a look of surprise on her tear-streaked face when her hand came away covered in blood. Absently she tugged off her wrist markers, folded one up and pressed it to the wound then tied the other around her neck to keep it in place.

His heart sank when he saw what she had been concealing under the fabric and realized belatedly that this was the first time he'd ever seen her without them on. Scars stood in relief against her tan skin. There were so many around her wrists he wondered if it was all scar tissue there. He'd seen something like this before from prisoners who'd spent time in the Denerim dungeons for long periods, but never to this degree of severity. "Maker Kallian…" He breathed, eyes glued to the intense scars. "What did they do to you?"

She remained silent, staring balefully at her lap for a long moment until she was satisfied with the tightness of the fabric around her neck. When she finally did look up, it was with anger and hatred in her eyes. "You don't want to know."

He was shocked by her firm tone, wondering how she had pulled it off when looking like such a wreck. "No, I think I do." He replied, his gaze flicking to Farst who was lying in a puddle of his own blood and guts. "I really do. You didn't just get angry; you went _crazy_. I wanna be prepared if that ever happens again. You nearly killed me." He gestured to his broken collarbone with his good hand.

Tugging the ragged ends of her torn shirt together in the vague hope of achieving some degree of modesty, Kallian let her gaze fall again. "You were outside the Alienage so you wouldn't know…" She inhaled and released a shuddering breath. "Didja hear 'bout the massacre in Denerim estate?"

Sticker nodded his head. Of course he'd heard. Everyone had heard. The majority of the Arl's castle guards had been slaughtered by elves, and it was the reason for the Purge after Howe had taken over. Rumors had it that the Arl's son had only barely survived the attack, his personal guards finally managing to stop the rebellion before he was killed.

"That was me." She muttered, getting to her feet unsteadily and swaying where she stood.

Sticker got to his feet, holding his damaged arm close to his chest and moved to support Kallian. She flinched from his touch initially, then let him provide some support so that she didn't fall over. "Are you… serious?" He knew that Kallian was good, the dead men scattered around them were proof enough of that, but to take out an entire retinue of guards? It seemed… far-fetched at best.

"I am." She replied in a quiet voice as the two picked their way out of the building. "Sorris an' Nelaros… The Arl kidnapped me, an' they came to save me. We tried fightin' our way out but…"

"You were captured." Sticker finished when Kallian paused, the pain of the memory clear in her voice. "How long?"

She didn't need him to specify. "A month, maybe more."

Sticker swore quietly under his breath. "Why weren't you executed?"

"I wish I had been." Kallian replied in a whisper, squeezing her eyes shut as if to block out the memories that were assaulting her. "They kept me because they could, because they… because I could amuse them."

"Maker Kallian, it's a wonder you're sane." The smell of blood faded when they got outside of the building, overpowered by the scent of the sea and fish that was a staple of the Denerim shoreline. Sticker looked to the skyline and realized with a sinking stomach that it was going to be a long trip from here back to home.

"We'll make it before mornin'." Kallian murmured, as if she could read his thoughts. Nodding silently in agreement, Sticker started the long trip back, the two walking in tense silence through the empty streets.

* * *

><p>I should be a game level designer, seriously. Maybe one day I will scan all of the sketches that I've done of the battlefields and show you all what kind of effort I put in to making these in-story areas believable for you guys. Ah well… But this was fun, right? Setting up my horrible horrible scheme to create a love triangle that will never be fulfilled because our favorite hard-hearted red-headed elf sitting in the middle is dead scared of men. And there was some character development in there too. Oh, and nudity. Some violence as well. Damn, I've just made a nearly M-rated chapter, eh? Pulling out all of the stops here.<p>

Also, merry holidays! Everyone be safe, and all that.


	35. Moving Target

In the end they had gotten lucky enough to charter some river men to take them across the straits on a ferry, the small party of Highever soldiers claiming their sovereignty on behalf of Teyrn Howe and if they didn't let them use the boats, then they would _take_ the boats and use them anyway. It didn't much long then to convince the men that the better option would be to quietly help the armed soldiers across the river.

Now they stood on the other side, camped a day's march away from Redcliffe, the castle a jut of stone on the opposite shoreline. After the hard going through the chaos of the Bannorn dodging every stray war party, being on the more or less peaceful side of the river was a nice change. They still kept their vigil, however. Fergus made sure that the men didn't slack off just because it was unlikely to see human enemies here. There were still darkspawn, and the elder Cousland's encounter with them had made him especially aware of that threat.

However, that night on the banks of Lake Calenhad the first threat that they received was not from darkspawn, but rather from a large force of Redcliffe's soldiers. They had forewarning of the intrusion from a group of scouts, so when the soldiers came to the edge of their camp the Highever forces were ready if negotiations went south. As Fergus and Aedan came forward to meet with the representatives of whoever was leading the Redcliffe force, they were met with the sight of one of their own men coming forward from the ranks, a runner that had been sent ahead to tell Arl Eamon that they were coming.

"Your Grace, my Lord." The commanding officer of the Redcliffe forces, a man with grey streaks in his beard and leathery tanned skin, came forward nodding to Fergus and Aedan in turn when he addressed them. "Word of your arrival is timely indeed. These are strange and bloody times."

"Indeed." Fergus replied, looking over the force that Redcliffe had sent, taking stock and measure. "Are we welcome then on Arl Eamon's land? I see that you got our messenger." The Highever soldier nodded once, looking a bit proud of himself.

"The Arl sends his greetings and welcomes any ally that would stand against Loghain's heresy. He also sends his personal condolences, as do we all. Teyrn Bryce was a good man." The officer replied, nodding once to Fergus and Aedan in a small show of respect for their loss.

The brothers took it in stride, receiving the condolences without showing too much just how hard they had both suffered for the betrayal of their father. "Thank you. Will you break camp with us then?" Aedan asked, moving away from that particularly sore subject.

Sensing that lingering would be a bad idea, the officer nodded. "We'll escort you to Redcliffe in the morning." Once everything had been sorted, the Redcliffe soldiers moved off and made their own camp a short distance from where the Highever soldiers had put down for the night, the two forces quietly coexisting.

"I take it that everything went well, then?" Solona asked when Aedan returned from the meeting to get something to eat from the mess tent. She had been watching him like a hawk ever since he'd been injured, and though her pact with Fortitude had sped up some of Aedan's healing process, she still couldn't quite manage to fix his broken arm and ribs. He walked with a bit of a limp from the injury to his side and his arm was still tightly bound in a sling. Putting on armor wasn't an option, and though he had been discontent with the arrangement, he had been cast as the strategist and kept well away from the front lines whenever they had to join in combat. It aggravated him, and she knew that he was annoyed with the whole affair, but secretly she was glad. Solona knew that if he got hurt like that again, the opportunity to save his life might slip her grasp.

"For once we had something go bloody right." Aedan mumbled to himself just loud enough that Solona could hear what he'd said. "They'll be escorting us to Redcliffe, so it looks like we'll get our alliance after all. Which is good. I'm glad at least one man in this blasted country knows what loyalty is still."

She couldn't help but to have a silent chuckle at his obvious frustration. Sitting back and playing the armchair general had never been Aedan's style. They got their food and headed back to Aedan's tent, once inside settling down around a small table stacked with papers. Since he was an invalid, he'd made a point of gathering up all the intelligence they had on Howe and Loghain's forces and studied them, devising plans and strategies and planning for any number of "what if" situations. It kept him busy at least instead of pacing around camp like a wild animal trapped in a cage.

While they sat and ate and talked, Aedan would frequently look at the shield he had worn for the better part of the last year, the family heirloom that had saved his arm if not both his and Fergus' life. It had a large rend in the center of it where the sword had struck, the warped metal so broken that it was beyond any smith's ability to hammer back into place. The enameled laurel leaves were still visible on the face of the shield, but it would never be used in a fight again, the edges stained with what was undoubtedly his own blood. Seeing the ragged edges, he understood what Solona had told him about the scar that would no doubt be on his arm forever more after the encounter, and rested his good hand briefly on the cast in remembered pain that turned into a mild itch.

Despite how broken it was he refused to get rid of it. It was at once a reminder of what he was fighting for and of the near death experience that inattentiveness had brought upon him. The heirloom sword was now in Fergus' hands, right where Aedan had always believed it should be anyway, the sword that he had landed with to replace it was a decent blade of standard military issue.

When they were done eating Solona took the plates and left Aedan to his scheming, confident that he wouldn't try to sneak off anywhere. Resting his arm on the table, he got down to absorbing as much information as he possibly could, planning on busying himself until lights out in a desperate attempt to not think about the fact that he was more or less useless. A few minuets later someone entered the tent and Aedan looked up, expecting it to be Solona. "Did you forget somethi-"

It wasn't Solona. In fact, Aedan could have been reasonably certain that he'd never seen the woman in his life. She was small, almost elf-like but her features were distinctly human. She wore light leather armor emblazoned with the Redcliffe emblem on her left arm, a quiver of arrows and a bow stowed on her back with a small dagger attached to her hip. The woman was blonde and wore her hair in a tight tail at the nape of her neck and had doe-ishly large hazel eyes, full red lips and a heart shaped face. In short, she was beautiful.

Lost for words, Aedan had no idea what to say to the sudden intrusion, and the woman seemed to recognize this, lifting her chin slightly and gave him a dazzling smile. "You are Aedan Cousland, correct?" Her voice was sweet and clear, like a spring brook on a blue day.

A few seconds lapsed then he seemed to come back to his senses. "Yes, that's me. Who are you, and why are you here, if I might ask?" There was something… strange about this one, he determined after a moment of staring at her, searching her appearance desperately like he was trying to find something. A flaw, maybe? However, the longer he stared at her, the more _aware _he became of just how pretty she was.

"Oh, silly me, my manners." The woman cooed and made a short bow. "Leona, proud soldier of Redcliffe, at your _service_ my lord." There was a distinct hint of innuendo in her tone that Aedan simultaneously did not like and was intrigued by. Everything about her was just so… strange, and he couldn't put his finger on it. "I came to get you. They're having a meeting, your brother was looking for you."

He didn't question the summons, grateful for something to do that might prove to be productive and slowly stood from his seat, keeping his eyes on Leona the whole time. She moved forward and touched his cast gently. He should have moved back, but he found himself transfixed with the way she moved and waited almost breathlessly for her touch.

"Poor thing, you've broken your arm." Her voice purred, her large eyes meeting his in a heated stare, her right hand wandering to the space above his cast where his skin was bare. Her touch sent thrills down his spine, and he found himself wanting more, for her to continue her exploration. A slow smile curved Leona's lips and she reached down for something.

"Aedan!" The sudden burst of light from outside and Solona's frantic cry woke him from the stupor, looking up and blinking like an owl at the mage as she burst into the tent.

Leona turned sharply, looking over her shoulder and yanked the dagger from her hip, raising it in a swift movement to plunge the blade straight into Aedan's chest.

Some force like the very hand of the Maker shoved Aedan backwards, his skin tingling from whatever spell washed over him and he staggered to keep his feet. Leona stood with her arm raised, her cheeks suddenly flushing and her whole body trembling, a look of pain working its way onto her beautiful features, and suddenly she didn't look so beautiful anymore.

In the entryway Solona stood, her palm bleeding and the magic working on the would-be assassin, immobilizing her and beating down her willpower until Leona dropped the blade and her body went slack, giving into the pain of the blood magic. Solona held her like that for a few minuets more until the woman's body slumped and released the enthrallment, dropping her to the floor. Looking up finally, she met Aedan's eyes, he looking more than a little confused and she looking a touch aggravated.

He started to ask a question, but Solona held up her hand, stopping him before he could start. "There's another one! Hurry, she's targeting your brother!"

Nothing could have goaded him into action as much as those words, and after grabbing his sword he leapt over the body of the would-be-assassin on the floor, leading the way to Fergus' tent with Solona following in his wake. Soldiers called out, but there was no time to stop and answer them.

Aedan burst through into Fergus' tent without preamble, finding him backed up against a table, staring at a woman dressed in fine noble's clothes with a misty look on his face. The woman was whispering sweet nothings to him, and Aedan realized with a dropping stomach that she was a dead ringer for Oriana. Disturbed by the sudden intrusion, the woman looked up startled at Aedan and Solona, the dagger in her hand pausing. He didn't wait for her to finish that thought, simply rushing forward and thrusting his sword through the woman's chest. She scrabbled at the blade as if trying to pull it out, choking on her own blood, then collapsed on the floor, gasping and heaving for air.

Fergus suddenly seemed to snap out of his stupor as much as Aedan had, shaking his head and looking around like he'd suddenly found himself in a place that he didn't remember going. His gaze snapped to the woman on the floor, and Aedan had to bodily intervene to keep his brother from falling to her side. "It's not her!" He yelled as Fergus struggled against him, forgetting about his wounded arm slung over his body and pressed into it until the pain was nearly blinding. "She's dead Fergus! Dead! You know that!"

After a moment of struggling Fergus seemed to realize that the woman on the floor wasn't his departed wife, and the differences between them became clearer as his mind fought off whatever enchantment the woman had placed on him. He gripped Aedan shoulders; his own slumping forward slightly, and there was an air of defeat about him that Aedan could understand all too well.

"I'm sorry, she just…" He stared at the dead assassin a moment longer, then turned and walked past Solona to the front of the tent, not facing either of them. After a moment of silence, he finally turned to look at the two, resolutely keeping his gaze away from the dead woman on the floor. "Thank you. Another moment longer and I probably would have shared her fate." Aedan wasn't sure if he was referring to the assassin, or Oriana.

"Thank Solona." Aedan replied, nodding to the mage who didn't look at all like she was eager for the credit. "One came for me as well. It seems that somebody wants us dead."

Fergus' gaze became dangerously sharp when he heard that, looking between the two quickly. "A second? Is the one that attacked you alive?"

Aedan looked to Solona for that, and she in turn looked to Fergus. "She's alive, barely, but I can revive her."

"I want to know who's sending assassins after us. We'll interrogate the live one… check through their pockets and see if there's anything useful in them." Fergus looked down at the Oriana double, his hard gaze immediately becoming pained and Aedan stepped forward, putting himself between his elder brother and the woman. "I'll see that it's done."

Nodding in understanding, Fergus patted Aedan on the shoulder then turned and left the tent. Once he was gone Aedan sighed, looking down at the assassin. "Whoever they are, they're cruel. She looks just like my dead sister-in-law."

Solona looked at the body, sadness welling up inside of her. "Fergus' wife…" She understood the implications, the jumble of emotions that Fergus had just expressed. To nearly be killed by the ghost of your dead wife… Shaking her head, Solona stepped forward, unafraid to get her hands bloody in the search for anything of use since her palm was already slick with blood. "What happened? Did either of these women use poison on you?"

Aedan shook his head, walking over and crouching down by Solona's side. "Not that I can recall. It was just… my head got fuzzy. I couldn't think straight, and that woman just was…" He tried to think of a word to express exactly what he'd felt, but couldn't seem to come up with anything.

Solona seemed content with the explanation, and didn't ask further. "If they were carrying orders, then she wasn't the one in charge of holding onto them." Standing, she wiped her hands off on the dead woman's dress, cleaning off her palm and fingers before straightening fully.

"Solona… How did you know?" Now that he wasn't on an adrenalin high, Aedan realized that he couldn't have called out for help, ensnared as he was by the assassin. Neither of them had made any undue noise that should have attracted alarm.

Looking up at him, Solona appeared first hesitant, then sheepish, lowering her gaze to the floor. "Its… something I've been working on." Aedan simply stared, hinting at her to continue and she took a steadying breath. "You always hear that blood mages can read minds, yet I had never been able to. I wondered about that, became curious and just tried to… I guess reach out? It's not easy. At first I could only understand the vaguest of emotions, or when someone was feeling particularly emotional I could sense what they wanted to do on a very basic level. I can't… hear thoughts, exactly, but I can _feel_ them. When I was at the mess tent I suddenly felt this extremely concentrated mind that was completely focused on killing. The intent was overwhelming, and then I saw a flash of your face and I _knew_ that someone was trying to kill you. That's… the best I can explain it."

For a moment Aedan simply gaped openly. Of all the Chantry propaganda against blood mages, this was the one that he had believed the least, especially after spending so much time with a supposed maleficar. Eventually he managed to blink and rubbed his face tiredly. This new ability was unsettling, and he realized that she could probably tell what he was feeling right now.

"I'm not really happy with it either." Solona said in direct response to his line of thought, then smiled gently at the incredulous look he gave her. "But it's useful, and I… well, I can't really feel what others are thinking unless I try. So I promise not to use it on you if you don't want me to."

He chuckled at that, unable to help himself and absently scratched at his left arm over the cast. "That would put my mind at ease. Thank you for telling me."

She tipped her head. "I said I wanted no secrets. I meant it. I'll always be honest with _you_, at the very least."

With the promise exchanged, Aedan really did feel more relieved with this new revelation. It would take a bit for him to wrap his mind around it, but he trusted Solona not to overly abuse the advantages that reading minds would certainly have. At the moment, however, there was a direct application of her abilities that they could put to use. "Fergus said he wanted to know who sent these two to kill us. Do you think you could help us get the truth out of the one that attacked me?"

Solona nodded. "I could certainly tell you if she's lying or not."

"That will be good enough." They left the tent together and found Fergus a few feet outside of it, talking to some soldiers. Once he saw that Aedan and Solona were out, he directed them to remove the assassin's body. "Are you ready to interrogate the other one?" Aedan asked after his brother was done directing traffic.

Fergus nodded. "I have a feeling that we'll find Howe sitting at the end of this trail, but if it isn't him then it would be good to know where to look for our other enemies. If we're lucky, we can prepare for more of these assassins with what we learn." He looked up to Solona briefly, as if surprised that she was standing there. "Is she coming?"

Aedan looked over his shoulder at the mage briefly, then to Fergus. "She broke whatever enchantment that assassin used on me. If she tries it again, I want Solona there."

Satisfied by that answer, the three of them went to Aedan's tent to find the assassin where they'd left her, dropped in the middle of the tent like a rag doll that had been abandoned. Solona stood to the side, monitoring the assassin while Aedan pulled up a chair and Fergus sat the woman in it, using the strap of her quiver to bind her at the chest to the back of the chair. Her wrists he tied together with the leather strips that tied her gauntlets on and once satisfied that she was as secure as they were going to get her, he looked expectantly at Solona. "Well, it's now or never."

Nodding in understanding, she walked forward and tapped into her healing magic, not bothering to contact Fortitude for this and simply attempted to revive her. After a few minuets of being bathed in the blue glow of healing, Leona stirred, her eyes fluttering and then finally roused, looking around in a daze. Once she saw Fergus and Aedan she frowned and tested her bindings. Apparently deciding that she wasn't going to be getting out anytime soon, she leaned back against the chair and looked distinctly nonplussed. "Naughty boys. This is how you treat a woman? If you wanted to play dirty, you could have just asked. I love being a bit naughty sometimes." Her voice held that purr again, and Aedan felt himself falling forward.

"No tricks." Solona said from where she stood, and Leona whipped her gaze to look at the mage standing off to her side. A spark seemed to zip between them, and the hazy feeling in the room was gone.

The assassin's eyes widened briefly upon seeing her, and she sniffed disdainfully. "So, the Cousland boys have a blood mage, do they? I should have known. Nobody comes back from the dead without a bit of magic at their beck and call."

Fergus looked up at that, his gaze flicking between Solona and the assassin. "Blood mage?"

Leona smiled seductively, finding great pleasure in discovering that at least the elder Cousland appeared to not have known Solona's true power, but Aedan intervened before she could say more on the subject. "Don't try and fool us anymore, we're onto your game. Now, tell us who sent you."

Leona's brows slid up slightly, something clicking in her head. Fergus looked to his younger brother, a bit concerned but was all right with letting the matter drop for now. Noticing the small exchange, the assassin adopted a lofty uncaring attitude. "Nope. I was paid for my digression, and your death. Seeing as I can't quite complete the second part of my contract, I suppose I'll have to be content with the first."

"I see that you're intent on being difficult." Fergus said with a frown, placing his hands on his hips and adopting a more reserved look.

"She's a mage." Solona said suddenly, though kept her relaxed pose off to the side. "Not a very high caliber mage, but that's how she and that other woman snuck in here and entranced the both of you."

"Of course it would take another blood mage to recognize me." Leona said with a sigh in a theatrical display of exasperation. "Did you feel the pull of one of your own kind and come running?"

"Enough with your accusations, assassin." Aedan growled, noticing that Fergus was becoming increasingly wary of Solona, sparing her searching glances more frequently than he would have liked. "If you're a mage, that means that you can be made Tranquil. An assassin apostate will probably put you at the top of the list in the Templar's eyes, so if we can't get you to talk now, then we'll do it after you've lost your emotions. As I understand it, they don't quite remember what loyalty is anymore."

All of Leona's smugness was gone then, her eyes going wide in momentary fear. She looked to Solona briefly as if she would find sympathy there, but there was none to be had from that arena. She had no pity for the assassin trying to rat her out and had nearly killed the most important man in her life. Realizing that she was alone, Leona tried to shore up her confidence again, though the façade was a weak copy in comparison to the arrogance she'd shown earlier. "The Templars would execute me right away. You wouldn't get your information out of my corpse."

"I don't know. We're pretty important people." Aedan replied, arching his brow as if she should know better. "We might be able to convince some Templars that your service as a Tranquil would be beneficial to everyone."

She looked on the verge of breaking, obviously terrified of becoming Tranquil despite her resolve to not tell her secrets. "What happens after I tell you?"

"I suppose that depends on what kind of information you tell us." It was Fergus this time who spoke, adopting the same hard expression that Aedan wore, both brothers equally resolved to have this information out.

Leona bit her lip, looking between the two. "I want a deal. I'll tell you everything that I know, and you let me go. I'll tell the others that you two can't be killed, that your pet mage is too hard to beat. They'll stay away from you, I swear."

Both brothers looked like they were skeptically considering it, and then Solona spoke. "She's lying."

Looking outraged, Leona turned on her. "How could you possibly know that, unless you were a blood mage, huh?" She was grasping at straws, frustrated that nothing was going her way, but if there was a chance to tear apart this trio, then she was going to take it.

Solona narrowed her eyes, restraining the urge to drop a lightning bolt on the sassy woman's head. "It doesn't take a blood mage to spot a bad liar. Assassins don't shy from money just because their target is hard to kill. They'll send someone better than you." Leona looked horrified and was speechless, realizing that Solona had read her intentions completely. There had never been a doubt in her mind the the other mage controlled blood magic, but this confirmed it, and she was frightened. This mage really was dangerous, and obviously powerful. Her own demon-augmented magic couldn't hold a candle to the power that she felt resting below Solona's calm guise. And worse, she seemed to have one of the brothers completely in her grasp, a fully functional blood thrall that questioned nothing she did. The whole situation had just hit a low point for the outmatched assassin.

Unaware of the silent revelation that the assassin was having and taking her horrified expression for Solona's statement having hit things on the head, Fergus ploughed through the lapse in conversation, attracting Leona's attention once more. "No deal. Tell us what you know, and we'll decide what to do with you once we reach Redcliffe."

Biting her lip and trying to find a way out, Leona looked one last time to Solona before dropping her head, conceding defeat. At least if they waited that long, she could try and escape when she was being moved. "Fine, I'll tell you everything."

After an hour of intense questioning, they had everything that they needed out of the assassin, from what guild she worked for to who had paid for their contract. It wasn't Howe, but Fergus knew the man as an agent of his, Leona supplying the fact that he had contacts in the assassin's guild she operated out of. It was a minor guild called the Midnight Tang that couldn't hold a candle to the Crows in reputation but was a fair sight cheaper to hire. Satisfied with that, Solona was left to guard the assassin in the event that she tried to ensnare the rest of the camp with her magic from her place in Aedan's tent while the two brothers left to go find something to secure her better with and discuss what they'd learned.

Settling down on what had previously been Aedan's cot, Solona watched Leona, the silence that stretched between the two mages nearly unbearable until the assassin broke it. "How did you do it?" She asked in a low quiet voice, looking to where she knew that Solona was laying in the dark. "Make the younger brother your thrall like that, I mean. I've never seen a blood slave act so naturally and defend its master so intelligently."

"I didn't do anything." Solona replied in a near monotone, pulling up the blankets to stave off the chill. "He is not my thrall, or slave, or anything else. He is my friend, and I did it by placing my trust in him. I doubt you would know very much about that." Leona was quiet after that, falling silent with her betrayal and Solona's words to think about. Touching on Fortitude's link that she shared with the Spirit, Solona asked for the bird to keep track of the assassin and warn her if the mage tried to make a break for it. Thrilled to participate in an all-night vigil as a test of its endurance, the small spirit flitted off into the depths of the Fade in a search for the strains of Leona's consciousness.

Outside in camp there was a stir as the rumor of the assassination attempt spread around, the soldiers talking amongst one another and occasionally one of the higher-ranked ones would come and ask Aedan or Fergus about the event. They played it off as quietly as they could, making the life-or-death experience seem more like a clumsy attempt by amateurs. There was no need to cause a panic. Once they were alone however, Fergus stopped his younger brother, a serious look on his face that Aedan knew had been coming since Leona first accused Solona of blood magic and had been preparing for it.

"Is it true?" He asked, leveling a serious look at Aedan, his tone indicating a fully no-nonsense mode.

Turning, Aedan stared right back, knowing that he stood at a decisive point. Lie to his brother for the sake of the mage, or tell the truth and risk her life? It was a tough choice, but one that he had made already. "Even if it were, have I changed?" The question threw Fergus off, and he seemed to change his perspective and look at Aedan from a different angle. "I'm not under the thrall of a blood mage, especially not Solona. Those were the words of a desperate woman looking to turn her enemies against one another. If Solona was dangerous, I would deal with it."

Fergus was silent for a moment, studying his brother in the fading light of the evening as the sun sank steadily downward toward the horizon. "You have changed." He said; his tone tinged with sadness. "You're harder now. You're more reserved and you don't trust easily anymore, but I know you trust _her_. Just be careful, Aedan. She seems like a good woman, and I've seen how dedicated she is, but that doesn't erase the fact that she's a mage."

"I know." Aedan replied grimly, attempting to keep his bitterness out of his voice for Fergus' sake. He'd known all along that Fergus wouldn't very much approve of Solona being allowed to freely act like she wasn't cursed with magic, but he tolerated it, which was all he could ask for now. "I know better than you assume." He could see that Fergus was curious about that statement, but he would have to be content with what he'd said already.

* * *

><p>SAY WHAT? THE BROTHERS DISAGREE? OMG! But yeah, threw in some seductive assassins because I could (if Bioware is going to give us blood-mage-whores-with-desire-demons-in-their-pockets I'm going to use them), and to also get some stuff out of the way concerning the Fergus+Aedan&amp;Solona dynamic. Really, Fergie is just looking out for his baby bro and is possibly suspicious about their deep undeclared love for one another. BROTHERLY LOVE AT IT'S FINEST! I hope you all had a happy holiday experienced, and the next time you get an update in your inbox, it'll be in 2012! Yay for the new year!<p>

As an aside about the reading minds thing with blood magic… have any of you ever tried to listen to your own thoughts? I don't know about anyone else (because unfortunately mind-reading doesn't exactly exist) but if I'm just thinking regularly… walking down the hall, or going about menial tasks, my thoughts aren't clearly put out in words. I tend to note that I think in images, whims, occasionally bits of sentences, and by senses. Only when I'm concentrated on an engaging task do I think that my mind moves in a direction that someone else could directly understand, and even then, I think that I have many personal "short-cuts" that others may not comprehend without explanation, and I myself might not ever realize I'm using. Since I'm the only person whose mind I can sample, I'm going to have to go off of what I know and can experience for myself. This is unlike most fantasy novels where mind-reading is involved, in which tapping into minds is portrayed as something that can easily be followed by an outsider, like opening a book. I'm under the impression that this is a simplification of the human mind for the purposes of novels, and that's all right. However, I want to try something different, so if you don't like it or don't agree with me, please tell me how you think (literally).

For those wondering what's up with the Wardens, rest assured that I haven't forgotten about them. They're just hiding in the Deep Roads right now. You know. Dealin' with dwarves, chasing nugs, recruiting drunks, slayin' darkspawn, and being tentacle raped by Broodmothers. Normal things. Completely average week for a Warden, really.


	36. Dreaming

"_They'll take you away next! You're a brat, so mamma will get rid of you too!" A boy said tauntingly with a cruel smile and a glimmer of mischief in his bright blue eyes, dangling a well-loved cloth doll over his head. He was perhaps ten, very clean, and was wearing the sort of outfit that the nobility liked to dress their children in._

_A little girl was crying, both because of the teasing and because she wanted her doll back. "Mamma wouldn't!" She cried, jumping desperately for the doll, her brother laughing as he dangled it just out of reach. "Give her back!"_

"_Bratty Sola's gonna get taken away!" His voice was sing-song now and he put his hand on her head, shoving her away._

_She cried harder. "Shut up! No I'm not!" Her voice was teetering on the edge of a wail._

"_Momma's gonna give you to the men in armor an' they'll take you away just like brother!"_

"_Shut up!" She screamed, finally attracting the attention of the nursemaid, the woman bustling in and attempting to separate the two siblings._

_The boy continued to taunt, the maid tried to calm her and she got more and more flustered. Her throat closed off with frustrated tears and her face grew hot. She just wanted her doll back! Something inside of her snapped and she screamed again. "SHUT UP!"_

_Her brother tried to laugh, but no sound came out. He looked shocked when he realized that he couldn't speak, the maid now staring at her with wide eyed terror. She stood to flee and tell the mistress that her daughter had showed mage-sign but didn't get very far before the boy got angry, going red in the face as he silently yelled at his sister, and then there was fire in the nursery._

_It spread quickly, the magical flames leaping from a spot on the rug to a chair, caught on the curtains and then the whole room started filling with smoke. The boy, terrified by what he'd done was frozen to the spot and the little girl wailed as the maid grabbed her roughly, taking the boy by the hand and ran out of the room before the fire could claim the three of them._

_An older girl with the same red-brown hair as the blue eyed boy came running into the hall, took one look at the smoke pouring out of the nursery and immediately gathered her brother up into her arms, running with the maid to the main hall and alerted the others there of the impending tragedy. A man with a neat beard and recessing hairline, grey streaking the dusky blonde in both, was immediately up in arms when he heard, the woman at his side tearing up and breaking down on the borderline of hysteria when the nursemaid explained what had happened in short clipped tones._

_The woman started sobbing, crying; "Not another! Not another!" over and over again as the older girl tried to comfort both her and the now wailing boy._

_Clutching her doll the little girl watched as house servants drew water and ran to quench the flames. Her father barked orders for a time, then disappeared in the chaos and she was hurried out of the house._

_Some time later, scary men in armor came and took her and her brother away. She begged to not go, promised that she would never be a brat again if they let her stay and wailed for her nanny and mother. Her brother was quieter, given to silent sobbing and the longer the Templars ignored them, the closer the siblings got until they were clinging to each other quietly save for the girl's crying and boy's sniffing._

_Behind them, the fire consumed their mansion._

_The next days were spent in a mild state of constant terror. Scary armored people handled them roughly, and what seemed like days were spent in darkness with only her brother to cling to. The confinement was punctuated occasionally by more people in armor, then one day they took her and her brother, separated them from each other, and she never saw him again._

_The tossing boat sickened her. She was plagued by homesickness too. She wanted her mamma, she wanted her nanny, she wanted her doll. But the armored people said she couldn't have them. She cried, and they ignored her._

_Then she was on solid ground, looking up at a tall tower that seemed to touch the sky and pierce the sun. Inside it was cold, the glares of the men as she passed colder, but she didn't cry. She was tired of crying. Tired of moving. Tired of not knowing what was going on._

_Someone explained to her that she was a mage, that this was her home, that the others here were her family now. Someone else told her she was cursed, that her family hated her, and that she should hate herself too. She didn't like either of them._

_That day she didn't talk to any of the other kids who all stared at her. Some tried to talk to her, but she ignored them and continued crying. That night she dreamed of home._

_Time was muddled. Time didn't matter in their prison. They were never getting out, so why care? Faces aged. The old became older, the young grew up and she too changed. Passing time was like a tapestry of emotion, color and feeling. People wove in and out of her life, events were marked by the dull grey of the normal, a spark of yellow for joy, a splash of blue in sadness, and any number of others colors that appeared overlaid on the feeling of the moment, the whimsy of the mind._

_Among the shifting blur one face kept reappearing; a dark haired boy with an absent smile and a longing face. He wasn't her brother, but he was close enough. They laughed and hurt together, got in trouble too, and that hurt in a different kind of way. Then they were grown up, and childish things were set aside and serious things interrupted the unbroken grey. She reached out to that familiar thread, and suddenly the whirl of time ceased and they stood, facing one another, blinking in the light that shown down from a window high above where they stood._

_He blinked. "Sola?"_

_Her eyes watered to hear the familiar voice again. "You're dead."_

_Stricken, he recoiled sharply then peered at her harder. "If I am, then you must be too."_

_The tears stopped prematurely, briefly overridden by confusion. "What? No, I'm alive. I've been traveling for ages, always moving since that day…" She felt older. She __**looked**__ older, and even when she looked down at herself the robes she was wearing changed from apprentice purple to mage blue, briefly a Templar's cloak covered her, but that was replaced with the tunic she had stolen from a dead man, then finally settled on what she wore now; a simple brown and green cotton dress that fell just past her knees with a sash of burgundy around her waist and a thin leather half corset. She knew then that this wasn't just a dream, that this was in fact the Fade, and that she couldn't simply watch the things around her anymore with idle curiosity. It was time to be wary._

_He changed too, the helpless boyishness that she'd come to grow used to slowly fading to be replaced with a grim weariness. He was tired. He __**looked**__ tired. The need for rest was evident in the darkness under his eyes, the heavy almost beard-like stubble on his chin, and the gauntness of his face and the thinness of his body. He looked on the verge of sickness, pale and skinny and needing rest, yet even here sleeping she knew that he would find no peace. The heavy dark longing of the __**others**__ lurking just out of sight made that clear. Though they stood in a representation of the Circle's second floor together, brought by similar dreams to a common place, they were not safe. There were no Templars here to banish the demons._

"_The Wardens said that they told the Arl to execute you." Solona said quietly, and watched as the face of her beloved friend became even more grim. "I must be more tired than I thought, or Leona is using her magic to influence my dreams. If you hope to lull me into false security with this ruse, then it's no use. I've seen better illusions."_

"_What are you __**talking **__about?" He asked, looking surprised and a tad on the annoyed side. "If anyone's the illusion here, you are. I had hoped, prayed! that you might still be alive after we separated, but all I heard was a Templar crowing that they'd taken your phylactery out and that you would get no rights before they executed you."_

_Her eyes widened in disbelief. "My phylactery was taken, and it was destroyed. What sort of demon are you that you know this? One of Mouse's enclave?"_

_Again, he was confused. "Who's Mouse? It's Jowan! You know, the kid who could never do anything right? The mage that was always standing in your shadow and following your lead?" Bitterness crept into his voice, plain and clear._

_She narrowed her eyes. The illusion wasn't disappearing, even though she knew very well that he had to be dead. A momentary thrill of panic coursed through her body. Could it be that she had accidentally stumbled into the realm of a demon even more powerful than Mouse? One whose will was so strong that even when she was thoroughly convinced that this was all just an illusion that the images still held strong? The thought terrified her more than she could say. "If you are Jowan, then tell me the name of my last lover." She could picture the man clearly in her mind, his face, his name, the way he carried his armor, the pride he had in the Templar Order…_

_He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Maen, right? The mage that brewed that moonshine once."_

"_Wrong." But it was the last one that the real Jowan would know of. Elation filled her. No demon worth their essence would miss the strong mental image she had projected. But the look on his face, confused and a little irritated was entirely too real. She had never been so happy that he was wrong in her life. "Jowan…" She closed the distance between them in a few running steps, nearly crashing bodily into him and threw her arms around him in a tight hug. Jowan hesitated to return the embrace, then slipped his arms behind her back and held her for a few moments._

_When she let go and stepped back, Solona was crying, hastily wiping the tears from her eyes with the palm of her hand. "I can't believe you're still alive… Oh Jowan, if I knew…"_

_His face softened slightly, his expression registering a deep pain at her words. "After what you said when we went our separate ways, I thought for sure that if you ever saw me again you'd want to kill me yourself. But… well, the Templars are about to beat you to it."_

_Guilt overwhelmed her, the spite-filled accusations she had lobbied at her long-time childhood friend echoing in her ears, whispering through the halls of the Fade version of the Circle. Traitor. Liar. Maleficar. "Jowan, I'm so sorry about that… I can't even begin to apologize… but what do you mean? Are you in danger? Where are you?"_

_He smiled ruefully at her line of questioning. "The Redcliffe castle dungeons."_

_Her eyes widened. "I'm a day outside Redcliffe. We'll be there tomorrow, you just have to stall them a little longer-"_

"_No!" The denial was so forceful that Solona very nearly stumbled backwards over her own feet, blinking in confusion. Jowan took a deep breath, clenching his hands. "No, don't come. Stay far away from here. The Arl's boy, he's mage-born. The Templars got here two days ago after dealing with the… problems in the Circle. They're here to guard him until things can be settled and have been setting any number of anti-demon and mage wards around the castle. The boy tore the Veil, so they're being extra careful, and they know I'm down here but I'm not a priority… well, I wasn't, but I heard them talking and I think that one of the Clerics from the village are coming first thing at dawn to attend my… execution." He gulped visibly._

_She couldn't help the gasp that escaped her. It was cruel. She'd thought him dead this whole time, the guilt that knowing their parting words had been ones of anger, her rage directed at him over blood magic, of all things. And now she knew that he wasn't dead, but he would be soon. Time was an odd thing here in the Fade, but even mages woke up eventually, and it would be dawn soon. He was being taken away again. "Jowan, no, I can't just let you die. I'll… I'll figure something out. I'll come and get you, and it'll be fine-"_

_He reached out and put his hands on her shoulders, silencing her imploring streak. "It's fine, Sola." He mumbled, squeezing her shoulders. "I… did something terrible. I've betrayed everyone that's ever trusted me and… well, I don't want to see you die too Sola. You can't save me. Not this time." He looked over his shoulder at something invisible, a frown on his face. "I think that they're coming now. Promise me you'll stay safe Sola. However you've managed it, keep away from the Templars. Be free, just like we talked about."_

_Solona sniffed, wiping at her tears, which were falling in earnest now and wrapped her arms around his chest, squeezing him. This time, there was no hesitation on Jowan's part. "I wish you could be free with me, Jowan." He squeezed her in response, and something gave way in his Fade form, the solidness that made up his body rapidly deteriorating. She squeezed her eyes shut, clinging to him as he disappeared. "I'm so sorry." Her voice was muffled against his chest. "I love you Jowan, no matter what else I say."_

_She felt a fleeting brush of lips on the top of her head and felt more than saw his smile, then he was gone and she was left with her arms encircled around nothing. A second passed, then another, then she fell to her knees and openly wept, furious that it had come to this and that there was nothing she could do to stop it._

_The demons, sensing her weakness came forward but didn't get very far as Fortitude bobbed in through a nearby window and settled on Solona's shoulder, eying the dark ones with his beady gaze until the retreated. "Why do you cry?" He asked once the Circle's floor was free of the demons that had haunted the shadows a moment ago, cowed by his presence._

"_Because I just lost a dear friend." She replied through her tears, and in a flare of anger slapped the cold stone of the floor with her palm, flames flaring out from between her fingers as magic leaked out of her in a brief flash. She trembled with the turbulence of her emotions and magic, taking deep breaths in an attempt to calm herself. "I've lost him a second time. But there's no coming back from this."_

_This time it was permanent._

* * *

><p>D'awe, sad chapter is sad. Also, written in italics! Yay for funtimes in the Fade! So, I've managed to tell some of Solona's history with the Circle and take care of the Jowan element all in one swoop. How'd you like them apples? A bit on the short side this time, I know, but kinda in a time crunch with university starting back up again and what-not. Ah well. More action and funtimes next chapter.<p>

A little explanation: I did some digging around with the DA2 timeline, and found several inconsistencies (surprise, right?) and I have come to the conclusion that depending on how you choose to interpret things, the Mage Origin Warden can be anywhere between the ages of 33 and 9. Also, in a conversation line with I think Bethany, she mentions that Leandra saw them take away "so many" of Revka's children, indicating that there wasn't just the one mage-child born to her after the first one, but a number of them. I wanted to explore this a little bit. Since mages don't start showing their powers until between the ages of 5 and 13-ish, it would be entirely possible for Revka to have two or three children already before the first mage-born showed their powers. In this case, her first son was taken away first, which lead to the teasing bit in the beginning. I also found it interesting (and is probably just short-sighted of the Bioware makers) that no Amell's other than Gamlen are left in Kirkwall that ever came to bother you. So, my theory is that their house burned down and either they died or moved far far away.


	37. Redcliffe

He had been watching all morning, vigilant as any mabari hound. As excellent as that sort of trait would normally be among soldiers, Aedan was not at all feeling gracious towards his brother for the silently wary vigil. Since Solona had emerged from his tent that morning, blood mage assassin still under control, Fergus had been silently keeping an eye on her. No doubt looking for the slightest hint of possession or blood magic. He was unsurprised that his brother hadn't let go of the suspicion that the assassin had put on him the night before. Couslands were not raised to be fools, and Fergus was most surely not about to break the mold. It didn't help that the whole morning Solona had been looking decidedly downtrodden and a bit mopey.

By dawn the camp had been struck, both parties of soldiers ready for the half-day march to castle Redcliffe. Aedan was shouldering his pack, careful of his wounds and preparing to start marching when Solona came to him, her head down in an uncharacteristically timid manner. He'd felt that something was wrong all morning, and it looked like he was finally going to find out what. Her first words, however, he was not expecting.

"I can't come with you to Redcliffe."

For a full moment Aedan simply stared at the mage, uncomprehending. "What? Why?"

She drew a slow breath and then finally raised her head to look up at him, and he noticed for the first time that her eyes were rimmed with red, like she had been crying. "There are Templars at Redcliffe. I'm sure they'd recognize me right away. I can't… put you in that position."

Gently he set down his burden, keeping his eyes on Solona the whole while. "How do you know there are Templars in the castle? Are you sure?" It only occurred to him _after_ asking that she could read minds and that it was entirely possible that she could have found out from the Redcliffe soldiers that had come to meet them.

"I'm certain. I… last night I had a dream and went into the Fade and…" Her face dropped again, looking at the ground between them and she took a shuddering breath. "Do you remember what I told you about Jowan?"

Aedan wracked his brain for a moment, the name tauntingly familiar. "He was that friend that escaped with you from the Circle, right?"

"Yes. And I told you that I agreed to help him escape so that he could be with the woman that he loved. We parted ways once we reached the banks of lake Calenhad because my phylactery was still out there and the Templars could use it to find us… That was all true, but it wasn't the entire truth." Her eyes flicked up to meet his gaze for a brief second, determining the emotions she saw on his face then looked around to see if anyone was paying them special attention. "We didn't part… agreeably. He had used blood magic to escape and I felt so betrayed that he would lie to me, that I had helped a blood mage leave the tower… I told him I hated him and called him all sorts of awful things and then left. And you heard the Wardens, he got hired on by Loghain and did those awful things to the Arl and caused so much trouble but when I saw him last night I was… Oh _Maker_ Aedan, what did I do? Maybe if we would have stayed together he could have turning things around. Maybe it wouldn't have had to end like that…" She was crying fully now, wrapped up in her own guilt for the death of her friend and shuddering with her tears.

Gently Aedan reached out and brushed the back of his knuckles against her cheek. "Loosing a friend isn't easy." He mumbled, and she simply sniffed. "Loosing family is harder, especially when you never said a proper goodbye. Remember him and what he meant to you, and don't make the same mistake twice."

She did meet his eyes then, realizing that he wasn't only speaking for her sake, but also for his own. The double meaning was not lost on her. Solona wiped her tears and Aedan dropped his hand now that she was piecing herself back together, watching silently. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you for listening and… understanding."

"Aedan!"

Both looked up to see Fergus coming their way, his business face on. "Are you ready to go?" He asked while looking between the two then centered his gaze on Solona, a brow rising in curiosity and a little bit of worry. "You haven't been breaking hearts again, have you brother?"

That got a weak chuckle out of Solona, and Aedan simply frowned at his sibling. "It isn't like that at all." He grumbled in reply.

"It's my fault." Solona said in a small voice, affecting a small smile for the elder Cousland. "The Fade is a little on the thin side near Redcliffe, probably because of what happened those few months ago when the Arl was afflicted. I just had a frightening dream is all."

Fergus hesitated for a second, then nodded, content to not interfere with the fragile affairs of women. "The Commander would like to discuss some issues with us on the way to Redcliffe, so we'll be marching with his soldiers. I told him about the assassin mage woman and he said that one of his scouts turned up dead this morning, so at least we know where the armor came from. He's under the impression that we should deal with her now rather than bringing her to Redcliffe to be dealt with, and frankly, I'm of the same mind."

Aedan glanced to Solona briefly before turning his attention fully on Fergus. "That might be best. Trying to transport her will just give her longer to try and escape or use her magic on our men."

"My thoughts exactly. I'll let the Commander know then. I'll see you at the front." He excused himself briefly, flicking his gaze one last time to Solona's red-rimmed eyes before disappearing into the depths of the camp. With Fergus gone, Aedan turned to Solona once more. "You know that I don't want to be separated, especially not if there are Templars close." And for other reasons too, but he wasn't going to vocalize those. Solona had been firmly clear where the two of them stood in the matter of personal feelings and he wasn't about to get in an argument where that was concerned. She was too valuable a friend to loose over trying to stress the boundaries of their relationship.

She smiled for his concern about her, holding her arms together loosely with her palms on her elbows. "I'll stay in the village, I think. I will be close enough to know when you will be moving out and be able to rejoin you quickly, but far enough that the Templars should not be able to ferret me out."

It was as good a plan as any, and he knew that Fergus was waiting, so stalling for time really wasn't an option. A thought occurred to him however, and he snapped once, Keran appearing at his side from out of nowhere as if the hound had been waiting silently from afar for his master to call him. The mabari observed the two with his intelligent eyes, studying their body language intently. "Take him with you."

Her eyes flew open in surprise at that, glancing down at Keran before staring bewilderingly at Aedan. "What? Why?"

Aedan shrugged. "If you get into a scrape, he'll be a good ally." He knelt, holding out his good hand and grabbing onto the loose scruff of the hound's neck, looking the big dog in the eye. "You protect her, alright?" He told the dog, making sure that Keran continued to look at him. "You look after Solona and keep her safe."

After a span of seconds the hound gave a soft woof and Aedan scratched him behind the ear and released him. The mabari gave his master's fingers a lick then paced to Solona's side, staring up at her and gave his stubby tail a little wag before brushing his muscled shoulder against her leg. He understood his duty and would carry it out faithfully.

Solona dropped a hand to his head, patting the dog and looked up to Aedan, meeting his gaze. "Thank you. I'll be more than safe now with him nearby."

"Look after him too." He replied, glancing fondly at the huge hound. "When we leave Redcliffe, I want both of you back at my side in full health. It wouldn't be the same without you."

The words hung between them for a moment, then Solona finally nodded her understanding. "I'll take care. You as well. The nobility of Ferelden has never been a passive easy-going one."

He took the warning in stride, giving a smile in return. "See you soon."

•º•.•º•

The castle was the same as he had always remembered it. The tapestries hanging from the ceiling, the smell of wood smoke that permeated the entrance way, the coldness of the stone walls and the rugs that were just threadbare enough to need replacing but not worn enough to dictate a high priority. It was almost like coming home, the childhood memories of summers spent near the lake not yet tainted by the evil that had consumed his life as of late.

Fergus felt it too. He could tell by the way that his brother straightened slightly, examined the walls and soaked in their familiarity. The two exchanged a quick look and it was enough to see that both of them were missing home, a time when things were simpler.

Though the castle might not have changed for the past four generations of Arls, the current man that came to them had been weathered unlike his fortress. Eamon was far grayer in the beard than he remembered, the proud man wearing new lines of stress on his face, around his mouth and eyes. No doubt some of them were new, put there by the trials of the past few months and the effect that a wife had on a man. Especially an Orlesian wife. Aedan had only ever met Arlessa Isolde formally and never for very long, but he had always come away with a mild dislike of the woman. There was just something… grating… about her that he didn't particularly get along with.

The Couslands approached the Arl, stopping a few feet away from him and crossing their arms over their chests and gave a short bow as a sign of faith. Really, Eamon should have been the one to do it first since the two had a position above him as the heirs to a Teyrnship, but as it was, they couldn't quite claim the respect that their heritage normally received. Eamon studied them briefly after giving a short bow of his own, his eye resting especially on Fergus.

"You've grown." He said, the oldness creeping even into his voice as he looked between the two brothers. "I received word from the Wardens that you had survived, Aedan, but I never expected both of you…" Again his gaze strayed to Fergus, grief passing over his face. "How did you survive Ostagar?"

Fergus knew that he was treading on thin ice, though through no fault of his own. The Arl had lost his nephew the King at Ostagar, and yet Fergus had somehow managed to survive that awful incident. "I was never at the battle." He replied truthfully, taking a deep breath and prepared to reiterate his story to the Arl. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Aedan looking at him, his younger brother willing confidence into him. He didn't need it, but the support was appreciated, and he turned his attention back to the Arl, recounting his story of being ambushed by darkspawn and rescued by Chasind. Of fleeing the Wilds and fleeing to Gwaren to safety, only to find that his family had been destroyed and had fled for his life once the trap had been sprung around him. He ended with finding his brother in the midst of the battle for their lives and ended it at that.

Eamon considered the information, studying the elder Cousland brother silently before the story seemingly passed his judgment and found it acceptable. Then he turned his gaze to Aedan. "And what about you? I heard what happened at Highever." His gaze was steady, watchful. The patience of years as a ruler behind that stare, assessing and assimilating. "We did not thing that anyone had survived."

Aedan took a deep breath and prepared to spin the edited tale of his life during the past year.

•º•.•º•

The sound of laughter echoed down the halls, the boisterous kind of laughter that came from men deep in their cups. In a single suite near the family chambers in the Redcliffe castle, three men sat around a table in front of a smoldering fire, three mugs between them and a nearly empty pitcher that had been filled with dark rich ale hours ago now forgotten in the center of the table.

"Oh Maker, it was a sight to see. My father went white as a ghost." The others laughed, Fergus banging his open fist against the surface of the table, Teagan throwing his head back and laughing while Aedan grinned like a fool, swaying in his seat. Screwing up his face, Aedan leaned over the table, trying his best to look utterly serious. "Boy! You get dressed and apologize to that woman's mother or you had better well marry her!"

Fergus snorted. "And I did! There was _no_ way I was going to see that ox of a woman again, so I married her."

"_Worst_ in-law _ever._" Aedan added with a too-loud laugh. "The woman was wide around as she was tall! She frightened all the adults and the children wanted to play with her belly. They almost pushed her down the stairs once, to see if she would roll."

Teagan was holding his sides, his ribs aching from laughing so hard. "I can only _imagine_ what your mother had to say about it."

"She was _livid!_" Fergus replied, grinning from ear to ear. "Almost caused an international scandal by herself, she did."

The three had been at it for hours. After Eamon, Fergus and Aedan had finished setting boundaries and forming plans and solidifying alliances, the two Couslands had been shown their rooms and given free reign of the castle. It wasn't long before Teagan found them, the younger and far less grim of the Guerrin brothers. He was fresh from a patrol around the city, keeping an eye out for enemy soldiers and darkspawn alike and had proposed a drink while the three caught up on old times. Their conversation had gotten more interesting the more alcohol they had consumed, and now they were swapping stories of misadventures in the bedroom.

Once the laughter had died a bit, Fergus wiped tears from his eyes and looked Teagan in the eye, quite a feat considering his current state. "Did I ever tell you about the time Aedan ran off with a dwarf?"

Immediately Aedan went scarlet, entirely too far-gone to contain his reaction. "By Andraste' puckered bloomers, don't you ever give that one a rest?"

Both Teagan and Fergus looked at him like he'd grown a second head, then burst out laughing. "Andraste's puckered _what?"_ Teagan managed between gasps for breath.

He flushed again, realizing belatedly that he'd used one of Kallian's special brand of swears and waved it off, even though not explaining where he'd heard such a combinations of words meant that Fergus would get to the point faster.

"So, our mother had arranged this big social brouhaha with this notion of getting Aedan a wife. Had it in her head that if one of her sons could stand tying the knot, the other one could too." Fergus grinned, lifted his mug and tried to drink but found his mug empty. Frowning, he lifted the pitcher from the center of the table with unsteady hands, sloshed what was left into his mug and took a long drink before continuing. "Disappeared with a girl 'bout half-way through. Where was she from again?"

Aedan looked to the ceiling, as if the words were carved in the wooden beams there. "I think she was from… Waking Sea? Not one of the daughters, a cousin." He waved his hand impatiently, clearly not remembering the specifics. "Don't remember her name, but she had the _longest_ legs…" He sat back in his chair, obviously remembering that particular set of legs warmly.

Fergus chuckled at the look on his brother's face, soldiering on. "Anyway, so he disappears and mum get's frantic, lookin' for him all over the keep. Has to say bye the all the guests and apologize that he's not there. She was sodding _pissed_. Had the whole guard out lookin' for him. The next morning father and I were going out for some practice and opened the stable and there he was, stark naked as the day he was born. Somehow, he got a pig in with the horses and was all cuddled up to the _ugliest_, _hairiest_ and _smelliest_ dwarf I ever did see. He was all dressed up with a ladies' skirt and had the bad makeup and everything looking like some painted Orlesian whore-"

Teagan sputtered. _"He?"_

"The dwarf." Fergus replied with a knowing grin. The two burst out into laughter while Aedan stewed, red in the face with embarrassment and drumming his fingers on the table noisily.

It took a while, but Fergus finally cleared his throat and settled a little, resuming the story. "And then- get this- and then _mother_ walks in. I swear to the Maker she strode right in, took one look and left. She came back with a bucket of water and threw it on the both of them!"

"Yeah, and gave me an earful with screaming afterwards." Aedan added darkly, narrowing his eyes.

Teagan chuckled at that, clasping his mug in both hands to steady them. "She did know how to give a lecture."

"To parents!" Fergus declared, raising his mug and the other two did as well, clinking together clumsily. "And to brothers that can't hold their ale."

That got Aedan to laugh again, even if he didn't really want to. The three recovered in silence for a little while before Teagan finally managed to get to his feet with some considerable effort. "Well boys, it was nice to catch up. I'll see you both in the morning."

Fergus nodded, standing along with Aedan who did so with a pronounced wobble as he tried to untangle from his chair. Eventually he figured out where his legs were supposed to go and followed Teagan out the door, calling a short good night to his brother and patting Teagan on the shoulder as the two went their separate ways to their rooms.

He felt warm, buzzing with the effects of the alcohol and the good company, but that all changed when he entered his room and closed the door behind him. He was plunged into instant darkness, having not lit the candles before he left to join his brother and Teagan in reminiscing. Usually, Keran would be at his side, the huge dog a constant companion, and without the hound he felt a little naked. He almost whistled for the dog, and then remembered that he was with Solona and stopped, leaning his back against the solid door behind him as the floor seemed to shift subtly under his feet. Solona. The mage. The _blood_ mage.

He should want nothing to do with her. The Chantry decreed blood mages maleficar, beings that deserved no mercy or pity, only death at the end of a sword. They were supposed to be evil malicious things, craving an ever-increasing amount of power. Taking ruthlessly from those around them, sacrificing innocents for their own bloody ends in rituals that more closely resembled a pagan form of torture. But not Solona. Not _his_ mage.

He knew she fought for him, because she loved him. Kaillian had told him as much. She used her power because she did not want to see him fall. She gave everything she had to protect those she cared about and he'd seen first hand the price she had paid in order to resist the temptation of further power. He'd lived that nightmare with her once. If the Templars only knew what resolve she had, perhaps they could change their view as well.

Somehow he'd managed to get himself to bed, kicking off his shoes though was too tired and muddled in the mind to even try and take off his clothes. He breathed deep, sleep dragging at his consciousness and he fell quickly, his last thoughts of the blue-eyed woman that had taught him how to trust again.

* * *

><p><strong>I'M SO SORRY!<strong> College is a bitch. Couple an increased work load with writer's block and you have a hiatus. I swear that I haven't given this up, not even close! I plot about this story all the time and really want to finish it. I just might not always have time. To fit with my schedule better, I'm changing to update days to **WEDNESDAY**. Hopefully, I'll be able to get you guys another chapter next week, though I make no promises. Thanks to everyone that keeps checking in, I really appreciate it!


	38. Crossroads

She hadn't remembered Redcliffe being so quiet. Then again, she had been nervous, jittery, and on the run last time she'd been through here as well. Looking back now, she wondered what idiot notion had driven her to the city. In those days, if anywhere had spelled "trap" it definitely would have been Redcliffe. In the end it had turned out for the best, but things could have gone so wrong…

Smiling absently to herself, she bit into a bit of her meat pie and watched the goings on of the early evening hustle of the tavern. There was a certain haunted look hanging around the people as they sat and ate and drank. Some of them were obviously just passing through, their mud-spattered clothes, heavy packs and wary glances marking them as outsiders. Outside on the street she knew that squads of men in armor were actively patrolling. An evening guard that came out around twilight and watched the town until dawn. She'd asked about it, but nobody had been keen to answer, instead silently warding themselves against evil with a gesture associated with invoking the Maker. Something bad, and probably supernatural.

At first she had been afraid that someone might recognize her from that disastrous night almost a year ago, but nobody gave her a second glance. She was just another refugee, like half of the people here only a little less ragged. Underneath the table Keran stirred, pawing at her leg and whining and looking up at her with large baleful eyes. Sighing, she put the remaining bits of her pie on the floor where the hound immediately devoured the food loudly, stumpy tail wiggling. She smiled briefly at the hound's contentment. If only everyone was so easy to please.

The door swung open, admitting a newcomer, and everyone looked up to see who had disturbed the quiet atmosphere. There was an immediate reaction when they saw the Templar crest on the man's chest, some of the patrons of the tavern cowering in their seats and trying not to be noticed, others murmuring to each other and looking at the Templar as if he were some sort of hero. For her part, Solona very nearly had a heart attack and openly stared, her knuckles turning white as her fists clenched against the grainy wood of the table.

This was bad.

This was really, _really_ bad.

For his part, the Templar stared right back, their eyes meeting in a breathless second. Then he simply walked over. He didn't even reach for his sword. She sat paralyzed, not sure what to do as Keran got to his feet, the war hound brushing his shoulder against the mage's leg in a protective way, a low rumble vibrating in his chest.

The Templar sat down, placing his helmet on the table and looked her directly in the eye. "It's been a while, Sola."

She gulped, aware that everyone was staring. "It has." She replied in a quiet, tight voice. "I never thought I'd see you again."

He flashed a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Never thought I'd get the chance either. I missed you, you know. Coulda told me you were plannin' on escaping. Mighta helped."

Now she really did gape. With an effort she closed her mouth and leaned forward against the table, one hand reaching for Keran's ruff and placing her palm on the solid muscle of his neck. Having the hound there was reassuring, and she was glad that Keran was ready to leap to her defense at a word. "Derik, what in the Void are you doing here? How did you even find me?"

The Templar smiled for real this time, leaning back in his chair, mischief in his brown eyes. Among all the Templars, he was the only one that Solona had known to have a real sense of humor and a certain… _flexibility_ with his morals and a colorful take on the oaths of the Templars. He was devoted to the Chantry, of course. As zealous in his belief of the Maker and Andraste as any of the other mage-slayers that populated the tower, but the way that he applied his oaths had a bit of a unique flair. It was why she'd fallen in love with him in the first place.

"Well, you know. I just followed the sound of heartbreak and it led me right to you. Shoulda tried that earlier. Woulda lost less men that way." Though he continued to smile, she felt the stab of accusation keenly. He knew what had happened when the other Templars had tried to take her. Or, well, at least knew that she was capable of killing them. Maybe that's why he hadn't taken her head yet? "But what I wanna know is how _you_ knew that we were up there. The Arl's been _very _careful about spreading the word of our presence."

She sat back in her chair, eyeing him coolly and studying his face. He hadn't changed at all since she'd left. Though he was a farmer's son, an orphan, he had a very distinctly rich look about him. Not the cold kind of passive power that Aedan had, but a different kind of… glow. He had a young face, the kind that made people underestimate him, especially when he smiled. Derik positively oozed charisma with his warm brown eyes and sandy brown hair and very nearly perpetual smile. How he'd remained cheery after having the Templars beat their creed into him, she'd never known, but it suited him. His sad face was heartbreaking, and his serious face bordered on terrifying.

"Well, you know that a host of Templars is hard to keep from being gossiped about, especially given the recent circumstances." He blinked. She smiled. There was no denying that logic. She looked over his shoulder to see that others were still sneaking covert glances in their direction and shoved her fingers deeper into Keran's fur. "Should we go somewhere else?" Meaning: _If you're going to kidnap me, at least don't traumatize everyone else in the room doing it._

Derik seemed to notice the onlookers for the first time. Apparently he forgot that he was in full armor, and even though it wasn't the noise-making heavy plate that most Templars wore he still made something of a spectacle sitting in the middle of the tavern as he was. "I suppose you're right." He stood with a groan of metal and leather, Solona rising smoothly and silently to her feet. Keran continued to press up against her side as they walked, the mage leading the way out the door with her Templar escort following close behind.

She'd left her staff in her room on account of it being unwieldy and a dead giveaway if anyone was looking for runaway mages. Now she wished she had it in the event that Derik's loose interpretation of his duties decided that letting her get away was against his better judgment. They walked out near the lake, the smell of the shore winning over the stale dusty smell of the town behind them, reminding her strongly of the smell that pervaded the Circle's island. Boats creaked where they were moored, rocking gently in the breeze that blew off of the lake at all hours of the day. Solona stopped near a pier, folding her arms across her chest and looking straight at Derik, Keran at her side.

"Why did you come for me?" The words were a challenge.

After studying her a moment, the Templar shrugged. "Well, you are just about the most wanted mage to ever escape the Circle. Killing Templars left and right… even got your phylactery nice an' broke so that we can't track you anymore. The other Templars hoped you'd died fleein', or that you'd gone out of the country. I knew you'd stay though. You don't do much of anything half way."

She narrowed her eyes. That didn't really answer her question. "I don't believe that you wanted to find me just so you could praise my skills at avoiding re-capture. Derik, _why_ did you come for me? How did you even _know_ that I was here?" She had her theories of course, but the Templar could answer her questions, or she could be content to guess.

This time his smile was tinged with a bit of regret. "Well, you know that I'm an excellent blood hound." It was true. He was the best mage-hunter that the Circle had seen in ages. He always found the renegades. _Always_. Usually, however, the ones that he found never made it back to the tower. He dealt with renegades quickly and efficiently, not quite seeing the point of dragging maleficar back to the tower for judgment or punishment when the sentence was nearly always death anyways. "After we lost you from the Tower, Gregoir called me up and had me track you down. Assisting blood mages is serious business. So I did. Got some guys killed for it, too. Then you go off the map entirely, and the Templars are having an absolute bloody fit and sayin' you were a blood-mage. Well, that made me look a bit harder. Then what do you know? The Cousland boys appear out of thin air like _magic_. Didn't take me long to pry out the fact that you were traveling with 'em. Those soldiers are a bit scared of you, y'know. Bit fascinated, too. They were all curious why you didn't show up. I suppose you got the younger brother under your thumb, eh? Word has it you're a permanent fixture around him."

She colored at that, glad for the darkness that would hide the worst of her blush. "It's not like that at all."

"No?" Derik asked, cocking his head to the side slightly, raising an eyebrow in question. Then his other eyebrow joined the first, a look of incredulity stealing across his features. "Nooooo, you didn't, did you-?" It was hard to tell if he was amused or disappointed.

If she was blushing before, she was mortified now. She tried to speak, opening and closing her mouth, gaping a bit like a fish. "There's no game this time." She mumbled, feeling indignant and like she'd just lost a lot of ground.

The Templar whistled the look of surprise on his face clear. "Well, I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. A future with a Teyrn's boy looks a bit better than one with a mage-hunter, right? Well, if you can spell the Landsmeet to restore his title, that is."

"_Derik_." Her tone was a warning. "Don't go there."

He shrugged, apparently unconcerned that she was now on the border of bristling with rage. "What I can't figure is how you did it. Kept away so long, I mean."

The way that he looked at her made Solona immediately nervous. He was giving her his best seeker look, the one that meant he was looking at her soul and could tell when she was about to lie. It was uncanny. He had such an easy time lying to everybody else, but nobody could pull the wool over his eyes. It really wasn't fair at all.

Then again, nothing about their relationship had ever been strictly fair.

"I had help." She replied, drawing herself up and patting Keran, the dog rumbling in response. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth either, and Derik's frown immediately let her know that he wasn't at all happy with that explanation. "Look, you can be jealous if you want, but there was never going to be anything long-term for us anyway. It was just… fun, while it lasted. You knew that from the start."

"Oh no!" He put his hands up, his face instantly going serious, though not quite scary just yet. "You're not pinning this on me. Don't change the subject. It's a legitimate question, given my position. Really, I shouldn't even be asking it. Strictly speaking, I should probably Smite you, drag you back to the Tower, and let Gregoir hand out your punishment. Which, by the way, is execution, so nobody'd mind if I beheaded you and skipped over the middleman completely. So, I'll ask again more directly this time. Did you or did you not consort with demons and use blood magic?"

He was definitely bordering on scary now, she decided. That, and she had been caught. Tell the truth and duel to the death, or lie and duel to the death anyway while knowing that anything they had ever shared would be shattered to a million pieces by a falsehood that he would never believe. It was a tough choice. In response, she lifted her hands, palms up. "Yes."

He looked at her palms, the network of scars hard to see in the dim lighting, but it was enough. He looked sad, but not particularly shocked, like he'd known all along. That was her Derik. He always figured things out fast. "You always hated blood magic." He said quietly, standing still and watching her, drinking her in like it was the last time he'd ever see her. Well, it _would _be the last time, one way or another.

"I still do." She replied, dropping her hands slowly, her right hand close now to the dagger at her hip, hidden in the folds of her sash.

"Why did you use it?" Derik's voice had gone businesslike, his face, usually so charming, completely blank. He looked older now.

"To save someone else's life." Solona replied, lifting her chin slightly, daring him to try and find a lie in that statement.

"Not because you didn't want to come back?"

"That too."

The two stared at each other, mage versus Templar, just like it always had been, and just like it always would be. The enforcement of order against the desperately flapping wings of free will. She hated this. Hated that her freedom meant fighting a friend, that trying to live normally meant she had become a murderer, had dragged an innocent bystander into the conflict and smeared his name with her presence. Tears pricked the back of her eyes when she realized that she was selfish enough to not change a thing, even given a second chance.

"I'm sorry Derik." Her voice trembled as she spoke. "I don't want to kill you, but I can't go back to the tower. Even if I weren't branded maleficar… I've seen too much, done too much to ever want to go back, not even for you. And if that means that I have to fight you, then I will. I cannot be swayed, and I will use everything I have at my disposal to remain free." Immediately she felt the presence of the Fortitude Spirit come to her, the bird drawn by its own curiosity. Solona could feel the Fade open to her, the Veil parting to make way for the creature and flooding her with magic until it visibly rolled off of her in waves, blue light seeping out of her skin and flowing onto the ground like mist.

Derik looked shocked by the sudden transformation and even took a step back. "_Maker._" He hissed, staring at Solona with wide eyes. He was no mage, but his magic-sensitive soul recognized the flood of power, his palms tingling with the magic that now saturated the evening air. Belatedly, he realized that he was afraid. This was no hedge-mage clinging to the Old Ways and wielding spells like a dull mace. Nor was she some run amok maleficar, scared out of her wits and desperately clawing at freedom. This was a fully-fledged mage confident in her power and backed by _something_ otherworldly. It had to be a demon, that's what usually happened when mages turned to blood magic but…

There was no feeling of menace. No bloodlust. No creatures clawing at his mind and tearing for his sanity. It was as if he were standing before a wall: unfeeling and unemotional, simply existing and imbued with the will to stand forever strong. Fortitude. Yes, that described the feeling very well. "A Spirit!" The creature mystified him once he recognized it. He had never seen one before, and never had he expected to see one when confronting a blood mage. "Maker's breath, you've got a Spirit!"

She simply watched him, glowing a soft blue that lit up the night. "I do. And we are resolved to live by the force of our wills alone if that is what it will take. Draw, Templar, or be gone."

A gust of wind ruffled his hair, the currents of the Fade brushing against his face in tendrils of cool air like fingers. Derik shivered and shook his head. "You aren't the mage I'm looking for."

Solona frowned at that, trying to puzzle out the words for their meaning. "What are you talking about? Who else could you possibly be looking for?"

"I'm looking for a mage that's been taken in by the whispers of demons and the calling of the power of blood. She's crazy, and will attack Templars on sight with no questions asked and no apologies. She can enthrall or enslave men just by looking at them and uses the bodies of others as a shield." He met Solona's gaze for a long moment, her confused gaze softened now by his words into a look of acceptance. "I mistook her for you. It seems like there's no mages here. But if you ever run into this mage, know that I'll be hot on her heels and that next time, there won't be any talking."

Then he simply smiled and dipped his head in a slight bow, turned on his heel, and left.

For a long moment Solona simply stared, unsure what had just happened, then Fortitude, seeing that there was nothing going on anymore, simply left. The Fade closed and the power sloughed off her body, dissipating in the gentle breeze that came off the lake. She felt cold and weak and sank to her knees, her hands trembling when she wrapped Keran's neck in a tight hug. She sat there hugging the war hound for a long time, shivering occasionally until she finally sat back and wiped her eyes of the tears that had gathered there. "I got lucky." She whispered to the hound, rubbing the big dog behind the ears. "Ferelden isn't safe. I haven't gone missing enough."

Keran whined and sat, licking Solona's hand.

She smiled and scratched him under the chin. "I know, I know. I can't leave yet. But I'm going to have to soon. Very, very soon."

* * *

><p>'Ello everyone. I know, I know, long time no see. Long story short, a lot of life happened between the last chapter and this one, and I struggled a lot with Solona's character development and her relationship with Aedan in the next chapter which was keeping me hung up on updating. I probably wrote ten drafts of these chapters before I was happy with one. I've never stopped working on HoH, though mostly my writing has been confined to filling the margins of my notes during lecture halls. You'll be relieved to know then that the next three chapters are already all written up and ready to publish. I want to thank everyone who's come with me this far, and the people who still subscribed and Favorited my story despite the long hiatus. We're nearing the end game of this series here, so I hope that I can finish off this story with a flourish and bring all of your suspenseful waiting to an end. Cheers, and see you again in a few days with the next chapter!<p> 


	39. Rain

Another skirmish at the border, another hundred men dead. At this rate, there would be no men left to fight the Darkspawn. As much as he hated the idea of bending a knee to Loghain, it might be unavoidable at this point. If the balance of power didn't shift somehow, then they were going to end up being swept under the rug by the Blight with little more than a dying whisper. The thought of allying with the man who had allowed his father's death was distasteful at best, but at least if they banded together they could kill each other _after_ the Blight was over with. Doing it the other way around would result in nobody getting their just desserts.

To make it all worse, Eamon was still clinging to the notion that they had to find Maric's long-lost orphan to fill the spot as king. The old Arl knew where to find whoever this boy was, of course, but he was being mum on the subject and downright stubborn every time either he or Fergus tried to weasel more information out of him. Between cross checking every new recruit that came in the door and trying to stay one step ahead of Loghain, Aedan was becoming more and more frustrated.

Aedan was on the way back to his room when his thoughts were interrupted by a pair of voices coming from down the hall, the speakers obviously around some corner somewhere near by.

"…the mage in the city."

"You think it's _her?_"

"Could be. He's been gone too long for a dead end, so he's on the trail of _some_ mage."

Two Templars came around the corner, both looking surprised to meet someone else in the halls and immediately shut up. They gave a small nod stiffly and kept walking. Aedan returned the gesture passively and continued walking in the other direction. Inside however, his heart was racing.

It was entirely possible that he was over reacting. Who knew how many renegade mages might be lurking nearby, and what percentage of them were of the "her" variety? Despite what little logical alternate explanations he could come up with in that brief moment, his mind immediately went to Solona, hiding somewhere in the Redcliffe village and his heart thudded against his chest with worry. Aedan kept his pace until the heavy clanking steps of the Templars faded a bit down the hall before he let the flare of panic sweep through him and quietly turned to follow the Templars down the hall. He wasn't as sneaky as Kallian, but at least in the soft leather boots he was wearing he was quiet enough not to attract attention.

The Templars walked a little farther down the hall before one of them opened up the conversation again, talking just above a whisper this time. "I only heard that he was missing today. How long's he been gone?"

"Two days. I saw him questioning those mercenaries the Cousland boys brought up. He had that look like he was on a trail."

"Always did call that boy a blood hound."

"Yeah. If that mage is running with the Couslands, then he'll find her."

"You think those boys are thralls?"

"Maybe. Or maybe they don't know. Could have bewitched the both of them, if the rumors are true."

"You believe that tripe?"

"Never underestimate a blood mage. You got to the tower after we cleared them out, so you don't know. They're capable of anything, and I mean _anything._ Just remember that next time you think that a mage can't or won't do something."

Aedan's heart was thundering in his ears by this point. They were hunting for Solona, and there was no amount of rationalizing that could turn his thoughts from this fact. He stopped following the Templars and turned, very nearly running back to his room all the while wondering: How? Had something happened? They said something about questioning his men… What did they know? What _could_ they know? Solona had always been careful, _so_ careful not to do anything that would tip off the soldiers to what she was really capable of. Except for the snow storm on the plains, she had done her best to stick to the sort of magic that was more or less invisible to those that didn't know how to look for it or else healing spells for the wounded. Not a lot to go on, but perhaps it was enough for whatever Templar was tracking her down.

When he arrived at his room Aedan threw off his formal clothes and dressed in the clothes that he'd brought with him from Denerim instead. Once dressed down he looked common enough as to be unremarkable, which was exactly what he was going for. He only stopped for a moment to slip on a pair of more sensible boots and grabbed a heavy hooded cloak hanging off the corner of his dresser. Should he bring his sword and shield? No, just the sword. The shield might be too conspicuous if he had to sneak up on someone, and he couldn't hold it on his injured arm anyway. Sweeping the cloak over his shoulder, Aedan secured it tightly and walked briskly out of the door, closing it behind him with a little more force than necessary. All the while he sent a silent prayer to Andraste that whoever it was tracking Solona hadn't found her yet.

Outside of the castle it was far more humid than it had been in the smoke tinged halls, even with a breeze coming up off of the lake. A storm seemed to be gathering to the east on the other side of the banks of lake Calenhad, the thunderheads painted red and pink by the setting sun and filled with lightning. It would be raining here within the hour. With a wary glance at the storm front quickly rolling in, Aedan flipped up the hood of his cloak despite the heat and shrugged the material into a position on his shoulders so that his face would be partially shadowed.

The walk across the bridge was a bit nerve wracking for him. He felt so overexposed on that barren stretch of stone and was only relieved when he finally was off of it and at least somewhat more hidden on the path away from the castle cut between the hills. The town of Redcliffe looked dead from way up there, the whole city lay out along the bank of the lake like a well-crafted miniature. It was light enough that no one had lit candles, and no one appeared to be walking about in the streets. He knew that the people were scared of the Darkspawn at the borders and so made a habit of locking themselves inside as soon as twilight started to roll around. They had probably seen the approaching storm and closed all the windows as well, even in the stifling humidity.

Aedan quickly made his way down the hill past the windmill and the Chantry, and then became lost. Where could she possibly be? He headed to the tavern that they'd first met in and scanned the insides quickly before deeming that she wasn't there then moved on, searching the town frantically for a glimpse of her. He thought about calling Keran to track her down but reluctantly decided against it. If she was in danger, then the war hound was her best defense against a Templar.

He turned a corner and almost ran into a man in full armor, just barely managing to keep from colliding into the soldier by throwing himself against a wall. "So sorry, I-" Then he noticed that the armor did not bear Redcliffe heraldry, and the apology stuck in his throat.

The Templar simply looked Aedan over like he was a stray dog, hitching up the helmet under his arm a little. "Careful friend, these streets are a wee bit tight." He was about to turn away and continue on when the Templar did a double take and looked at Aedan a bit closer. His eyes widened a fraction and a grin stole over his face. Immediately Aedan started reaching for his sword but the Templar was quicker, drawing a blade and laying the flat of it over Aedan's hand where it rested on the pommel of his sword. "No need to draw. We're not enemies yet."

"What do you want?" Aedan hissed, drawing back his hand but remained just as wary.

The Templar smiled disarmingly and slipped his own blade back into its scabbard. "You've got a little wildfire on your hands. You keep her safe, or the next time I track her down, you'll never see her again." Though his expression remained cheery, Aedan had to fight down the urge to shiver at the man's tone, the steely glint in his brown eyes clearly meaning business. "Let's hope that we never have to cross paths again, eh?" Then, with a simple nod, the Templar turned and gave a dismissive wave over his shoulder, continuing the way he'd been heading before their very brief conversation.

Having expected something of a battle from the second that the Templar recognized him, Aedan took a moment to process the fact that the man obviously meant him no harm. _For now_. Shaking himself, he ran the opposite way of the Templar, guessing that wherever he'd come from was the direction that Solona probably was. He'd obviously been talking about her, and relief swept through him at the realization that she'd been left alone.

By the time that he reached the lake the storm clouds were overhead and the wind from the storm was whipping off the lake in a fierce gale. Lightning crashed frequently now, the thunder rumbling so loudly he could feel it in his chest. Would she even be out in this weather, or would she have gone somewhere safe from the impending downpour?

Just past the docks a woman stood on a small peninsula that jutted out toward the lake, facing the wind with her hair streaming out behind her. A mabari stood at her side, pawing distractedly at the ground. Aedan wasn't sure if he shouted, or if Keran heard him approach over the gale, but the dog spun and began barking like mad before taking off and fairly leaping into his master's chest, slobbery tongue catching him under the chin before he could settle the huge hound. He had to keep his balance from the attack of love, or else risked being knocked down into the lake.

Aedan was so relieved to find them both safe that he didn't even care that he would probably be covered in muddy paw prints. He gave the dog a good scratching, Keran rolling over on his backside so that Aedan could get at his belly. When he looked up from the hound's antics, Solona was there, trying in vain to hold her hair out of her face and looking over the both of them.

"What are you doing here?" She yelled over the wind, catching her hair in both hands and watching Aedan carefully with a concerned look on her face.

Aedan wiped his face on his sleeve, getting of the worst of Keran's slobber off the bottom of his chin. "I thought that…" His words failed him when he met Solona's eyes, hesitating for a moment. He thought that she had been killed. It should have been easy to say, but even imagining the possibility stilled his whole body, constricting him. Haltingly he reached out and touched one of her hands, his thumb tracing the line of a silvery knife scar. "I was afraid… that I wouldn't make it in time."

Solona blinked, surprised, and swallowed visibly. After a second she took his hand gently and smiled, her hair springing free in the wind now that she wasn't devoting all of her attention to keep it in check. "There was nothing to be afraid for. Everything's fine." Her voice was sincere enough and her smile placating, but there was something in the way she said it. Maybe it was the faintest hint of sadness in her gaze that tipped him off. She was scared, perhaps as much as he was.

Thunder cracked loudly overhead and the smell of wet dirt assaulted them on a strong gust of wind. The thunderhead was closer now, a curtain of gray rain rapidly approaching from the opposite shore. "We should go." Solona grabbed Aedan's hand to pull him away from the shore and back toward the city. "I have a room in a tavern near by. You can wait out the storm with me there." Aedan followed without protest, still overloaded with relief from having found her whole and safe. The storm didn't wait for them however, and the curtain of rain hit them in a downpour. Big fat rain drops fell from the sky, pelting them relentlessly as they sprinted through the streets to try and get out of the worst of it.

It didn't take very long before they were soaked through, even with Aedan's cloak as a shield, which wasn't made to be weather resistant in the least. Solona was leading the way when Aedan slowed to a stop, staring at her as she ran and began laughing.

Hearing him laugh, Solona stopped as well and turned, shielding her face against the downpour's onslaught as best she could. "What's so funny?" She had to almost yell above the crashing and rumbling of the storm to be heard.

"This!" He replied, gesturing vaguely to everything in front of him and slowly picked his way to where Solona was standing, who looked appropriately confused. "What are we doing, running? We're already soaking wet. There's no point."

She blinked rain water our of her eyes, not quite knowing what to make of his statement. "That may be so, but I don't want to catch cold standing around out here either."

Aedan just chuckled to himself, lifting his hands palm up in front of him, catching water. "It's just like everything we do, isn't it? Neck deep in trouble, assaulted from all sides, and all we do is _run_." His smiled changed, became sad and he dropped the small pools of water that had been collecting in his palms, brushing wet hair out of his eyes as the rain continued in rivulets down his face. "Solona, what are we doing? What am _I_ doing? So much scheming and hiding and making plans… How many people are going to die for this? Kallain has already been captured once, and we're lucky to have saved her before she was sent away. I've nearly died," he lifted his bandaged arm slightly, then reached out with his good hand and tucked a strand of wet hair clinging to Solona's face behind her ear. She froze at the contact, staring at Aedan with large eyes. "You've nearly died as well. Is it even all worth it?"

After a moment of silence with only the sound of rain to fill the emptiness, Solona took Aedan's hand and gently removed it from her face. "Maybe it isn't." She replied quietly, holding his larger hand gently between her palms. "But whatever you decide is worth this struggle, I'll be there to see you through it. I won't leave you until your task is finished, whatever it may be." He frowned at that, catching the hidden meaning that she did intend to leave eventually when all tasks were set and done. She didn't want to give him enough time to think about it. "Come on, we're going to catch our deaths out here."

She tugged his hand and turned to leave, heading back toward the inner city but Aedan remained and held fast to her hand, pulling her back when she sought to flee. "Solona, wait." There was a breathless moment where they stood barely inches apart, breathing the same space as Aedan silently pleaded for her to reconsider. She couldn't meet his gaze a moment longer, flicking her eyes to the ground.

"We really need to get out of this rain." She mumbled quietly, and this time when she turned around Aedan didn't stop her, just quietly followed behind.

Solona got them back to the tavern that she'd purchased a room at, the barkeep openly staring as the two walked in then shook his head mumbling about their idiocy. Keran shook himself dry the second he got in the door, which sprayed everyone in the near vicinity. Aedan made a muttered apology for Keran's actions and Solona quietly led them back to her room, locking the door behind herself once everyone was inside.

"We should probably get out of these clothes. I already had to stitch you back together once. I don't want to have to save you from pneumonia, too." She refused to meet Aedan's gaze and went to work undressing herself, slapping her wet sash across the back of a chair before working on the tough strings of her half-corset. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed that Aedan wasn't moving and shot him a small smile. "No need to be timid. I've seen you without a shirt on before."

_Yes, back when things were simple._ Aedan thought with a sigh and began the laborious task of getting his own clothes off which was no easy task given that it was bound and determined to stick to his skin. After a few moments of struggling Solona decided to help the cripple out, eventually getting his shirt hung over the foot board of her bed. "I should probably re-bandage you." Her hands paused over the thick wrapping of gauze and bandage material over his arm, finally meeting his eyes in a timid flick of her gaze. "Are you ready to see what's underneath?" She was watching him carefully, nervously, almost like she expected him to break down at the thought of seeing what kind of damage he'd suffered to his arm.

By the way that she hesitated, he knew it was bad. The only time he'd gotten a proper look at his arm was after he'd awoken from his coma, and it was a bloody mess then, nothing to be made out. Now however, he knew that there was skin where the wound had been. A fierce itching had gripped him shortly before arriving at Redcliffe, and Solona had explained that all the new skin had just finished growing right before the last bandage change. His arm and ribs were still sore of course, but the pain had settled to a dull ache that he wasn't really aware of unless he moved the wrong way too fast. All good signs indicating that he was well on the mend and onto a full recovery.

"Let's see it."

Solona nodded and began unwinding the bandages, rolling them neatly in her hands and working silently without faltering until there was only the last layer left. She paused and took a deep breath, then simply slid what was left of the damp fabric off without further ado and waited.

It should have been amputated. Aedan knew right away from the size of the scar that without magic, he would be missing a hand right now. He flexed his fingers experimentally, watching the way that his muscles played under his damaged skin. The scar was roughly the size and width of his hand staring from the middle of his forearm, the scar jagged and uneven where the metal of his chainmail and the shield had bit into his flesh. The rest of the scar was the aftermath of trying to pry it off his arm. It looked like something with jagged uneven teeth had raked the skin off his forearm and didn't let go until it had reached his wrist where the scar tapered off in uneven ragged triangles.

He flexed his hand again, turning his arm back and forth to examine it and only stopped when it twinged in pain after moving it too far one way or the other. "I really shouldn't be alive." It was different having heard about the event afterwards and seeing the results for himself. He knew that open wounds were a dangerous affair, and that even as a last resort amputation wasn't always a clean process. People died that way, and he was more grateful than ever that Solona had managed what she had done.

She placed her palm over the scar, her hands glowing with the soft blue of healing magic and the dull ache in his arm retreated a bit more. The scar, however, remained as it was. "I'm sorry that I couldn't do more." Her hands moved to his side where another scar, thinner and less noticeable than the one on his arm was and let the healing magic seep into the damaged bone there as well.

"You have nothing to be sorry for." Aedan murmured with a small smile as he watched her work. "Soldiers get scars, Solona. I'll wear this one proudly. The other ones too." He added when she hesitated over a particularly nasty gash over his ribs, a wound that had long since stopped bothering him under Solona's careful attention.

Once she'd seen to everything, she backed away and took off her outer shirt with some difficulty, sliding the wet fabric through her hands and steam began rolling off of it under the influence of some magic. "Aedan, you know that I can't stay, right?" She asked quietly, absorbed in the task of drying her clothes and avoiding looking at Aedan altogether. "Ferelden is too dangerous a place for me to be in. The Templars are still hunting for me… I… saw one today. He tracked me down."

Aedan was quiet a moment, mulling that over in his head while Solona quietly waited for a response. "I met him."

She looked startled to hear that, her gaze instantly snapping up to look at Aedan, searching his face. "Did he say anything?"

In response Aedan shook his head and Solona looked almost… relieved. "Just a warning. To keep you safe, or else he would come and take you the next time."

Solona bit her lip, her hands pausing long enough that she started to singe her clothes. With a quiet curse she moved her hands and more steam rolled up into the air. "Keep me safe? That's so like him…"

"You knew the Templar?" It was Aedan's turn to look startled, sitting up a bit straighter.

"Well, I uh- yes." She flushed slightly, looking embarrassed and concentrated harder on getting what was apparently a particularly stubborn bit of her dress dry. "Do you remember when we first started traveling together, how I told you that I'd briefly had a love affair with a Templar?"

Realization struck Aedan like a brick to the head, and Solona's face deepened a shade of red. "Maker, that was _him?_" Solona nodded once and resumed gnawing at her lip. Aedan sighed heavily and sat back, scrubbing his face with his hands. "So, your old lover is an infamous blood hound? That just makes all of this _so_ much easier…"

"Where did you hear that?" Solona asked sharply, her blush forgotten. "The blood hound."

Blinking in confusion, Aedan cocked his head to the side at her sudden change of tone. "In the castle. I heard other Templars talking about him. They said that he'd 'picked up on the trail' and called him a blood hound. Why?"

Her face flushed of color and Solona sat down on the floor heavily, staring at Aedan in disbelief. "The others _know?_" She whispered, her eyes flicking to the window as if she expected to see a Templar looking in on them now. "This is bad Aedan! Really, _really_ bad! I have to go, I can't stay in Redcliffe if the others know that I'm here." Unsteadily she got to her feet as if she were to flee right that second and Aedan rose to his feet as well, steadying her by holding onto her arms. He was surprised to find that she was trembling, her eyes filled with fright.

"Hold on." He muttered in a soothing tone, rubbing some warmth into her cold forearms. "They don't know where you are, not exactly. They only seemed to know that this _blood hound_ had been gone for a few days, and assumed that meant you were near Redcliffe. They're not looking for you."

She hardly seemed convinced, but at least she'd stopped trembling. "They find me at every turn." She whispered, bowing her head and squeezing her eyes closed. "You're going to get caught up in this. We've been so careful, so lucky… but it's all going to fall apart. Derik gave me a free pass this time, Aedan. I have one last chance to make sure that I don't prove him wrong. But one slip, one toe out of line and he'll come for me again. He'll find me. I don't know how, but he will. He always finds who he's looking for. _Always_."

"Hey, look at me. Solona, look." Aedan gave her a gentle shake, squeezing her forearms and she finally looked up, her eyes wet with tears that she was holding back with willpower alone. "You're not going to give him a reason to come looking for you. You're not a monster Solona, you're _not._ I know you think you are, but I've seen it, who you really are. The mage you see yourself to be isn't the one that lives inside of you. You taught me how to trust again, and after everything that I went through, I thought I would never trust another person. I wish you could trust yourself as much as I do."

A tear managed to work its way out of her eyes, escaping down the contour of her cheek, dread and joy welling up in equal measure. She knew he was speaking honestly, could see it in his face that he wasn't just spewing pretty words to reassure her. But there was always that insidious whisper lurking on the edge of her consciousness, the one that told her that she was a walking magic bomb, ready to go off at any second. "I know you mean it." Her voice quivered, almost silent against the backdrop of rain splashing against the small glass window. "But I can't think like that. I can't afford to."

"Who's talking now?" He asked quietly, kneeling in front of her to meet her eyes, cupping her cheek gently. "You? Or the Chantry? They're right about most blood mages. They seek nothing but power, lie, cheat and deceive to get what they want and are never satisfied. But you're not like that Solona. You're not _them_. You have a strong heart, and damned be the demon that tries to crawl in and take you over, because I know it wouldn't work. After everything that you've been through in the last few months, I know you're strong enough to face down anything that comes your way. You are _not_ a monster. You're a _person_, and you should start living like one. You can't keep being afraid of what you are."

She couldn't find her voice to reply to that, dangerously close to breaking down into full-on sobbing. She clutched at her arms, hugging herself against the cold that the wet clothes and rain had brought on. "It's not so simple."

"It is and it isn't." He allowed, reaching gently to tip up her chin so that she would look at him. "Nothing is the same anymore. The monarchy is in tatters, the Circle has been practically wiped out, and there's a Dalish elf out there somewhere who's in charge of saving the world. I have no illusions that the way things _were_ will be the same as how they _will be_ once this is all settled and done. What happens right _now_ is something that we can decide on, something we make ourselves. You have to choose where you go from here." His touch lingered a moment longer than was strictly necessary, and then he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "…and if you don't run away, I will be there." He promised, the pad of his thumb brushing strands of hair out of her face. "I will always fight for you, as you have fought for me."

Her heart cracked with the sincerity of the oath, and she couldn't help another tear slipping down her cheek. "What about your brother?" She asked softly. "Highever? All of Ferelden?"

"This is not a promise I make lightly." Aedan replied softly, the palm of his hand resting against Solona's neck. "My duty to my family remains the same; to clear our name and restore our honor. Beyond that… My future is uncertain. My life is my own now, there is little point in thinking that there will be a Teyrnir waiting for me at the end of this road of vengeance. I do think that Howe will have to die, by my hand or Fergus'. The only thing that I know for certain is that at the end of the road, you'll be there, and that's something worth protecting."

Solona sniffled as way of an answer, reaching up and putting her hand on Aedan's wrist. "Maybe I could believe what you say, as long as you're there to keep reminding me."

"That's the spirit." Aedan replied with a small little smile and got to his feet offering Solona a hand up. "Let's get dry, now that that's all settled. It's chilly in here wearing nothing but damp clothes." Solona took his hand and managed a smile back, putting the plan of fleeing the country back to a method of last resort.

* * *

><p>I think I accidentally misled some of you last chapter. When I said that I was working on their relationship, I didn't mean that I would finally give all you shippers what you wanted. But it's a step in the right direction, right? Anyway, this is for my fellow dudes that have to be up at stupid 'o-clock in the morning the face the chilly darkness. Next update on Friday.<p> 


	40. Ink and Intuition

_My Dearest Oriana,_

_Not a moment goes by that I do not think of you, my love. Between you and Oren, it is a wonder that I have thoughts for much of anything else. But somehow I manage to continue on, my only comfort being that the two of you are at the Maker's side._

_There is some good news in this world, however. Even on the brink of war with the foul darkspawn on every side, I have managed to find my brother among the chaos. I thought with the fall of our house that I had been left entirely alone, left to throw my lot into this idiotic civil war against a madman and doomed to be the last of the great Cousland line. There was such relief when I found him that I was almost completely overcome with such welling emotion that it would be a dishonor to try and describe it with words alone. But even as I am glad that he is alive, it saddens me that he has changed. It is to be expected, of course. After all that I have been through I have no doubt that I am perhaps as foreign to him as he is to me._

_My brother is not the doting uncle Oren knew, or the foolish boy that you scolded more than once on Nan's behalf, nor eve the mischievous lad I knew as we grew up together. He had always been a natural at combat, love, but to see him on the field of battle as I did, one would be pressed to wonder if he was born and bred for mercenary work, so ruthless is his blade work._

_This change would not sadden me, I think, save that there now seems to be a great distance between us that cannot be bridged by simple words. Brothers reunited at long last, and it seems impossible that we could ever resume our camaraderie. I love my brother and so could never hold it against him. Even if I weren't a relation, I could still understand his situation. Oriana, my love, when I realized the reason for our distance, my first thought were of you. Do you remember that first time we met? Looking back now, I just remember myself as seeming so foolish and we both were so young, but from the moment I laid eyes on you I knew absolutely that no matter what my father or mother or the nobility said that somehow, some way, I would find a way to be with you. Thankfully, the Maker seemed to have blessed our union with little fuss, and so we had happiness. I feel my brother has found his Oriana, though there is such a rift between them that I cannot imagine even the Maker's blessing to be strong enough to bridge it._

_I am wary of her, my love, and not simply because I am looking out for my baby brother. It is because she is not a noble from a foreign land with whom it would be most inappropriate to dally with. If she were, my blessings. Even if Aedan were to find himself a scullery maid or perhaps even an elf, I would not be happier for him. But this is not such an easy case. Mages are a whole other caliber of forbidden as we all know, and I see him try to ignore the parts of himself that long for her, and she in turn tries to keep her distance. If I were more of one for plays, I would have compared them long ago to some tragic couple of the ages. Perhaps something along the lines of that old fable about the princess and the soldier and the river of starry tears between them would be appropriate. My love, for all the happiness I would wish my brother, I still cannot put aside the danger that this young beautiful girl poses to the last member of my family. For all the distance between us, he still knows me well enough to have realized this, and so it is the wedge that drives us apart. Love for a woman… is there any greater drawing force in this life? If only longing for a loved one could bring them from beyond the Void as well, then I should expect to see you and our beloved son once more._

_Alas, the dawn draws near and I fear that I must rejoin the living. My love is forever yours, in this life and beyond. May the Maker guide me to your side when this life has run it's course._

_With all my love,_

_Fergus_

Fergus looked over the letter that he'd composed quietly, tapping the quill in his hand against the table before replacing it next to the ink well. Carefully, he folded up the letter and walked over to the fireplace, reduced to embers after the whole night had passed without another log thrown on to feed the flames. For a while he simply stared at the flickering embers, turning the letter over in his fingers, then carefully placed the paper amongst the coals. It caught quickly, flaring up in a brief but bright flame and the edges curled and became black. His night's work was quickly eaten to ashes, and he turned away from the fireplace to adorn his day wear, eager to get on with work to keep from thinking about less pleasant things.

Just as he was about to leave, a knock came at the door. Curiously, Fergus looked to the window and judged that it must still be an hour or so before dawn and so wondered what someone would be doing at his door at this hour. He grabbed his sheathed sword, ready for anything that might be beyond the door and opened it.

A young lad stood outside, looking sleepy and somewhat nervous as he looked up at Fergus and straightened up immediately. "Ser, Arl Eamon requests your presence in the great hall as soon as you can come."

"Did he give a reason?" Fergus asked, raising an eyebrow. It truly was a strange hour to have the Arl sending messengers to his door so early in the morning.

The boy shuffled his feet and looked down both sides of the hallway before leaning forward slightly and said in a much lower voice: "The Wardens are back, Ser."

Well, that was certainly news worthy of such an early morning! "Good lad. Move along." The boy folded his arms over his chest and gave a quick bow before running off down the hallway, leaving Fergus to his own devices. If the Wardens were finally back, then it could only mean one thing: the beginning of their end game. Hopefully Theron and Alistair had been successful in recruiting the dwarves to their cause, but either way, it was time for the Landsmeet to finally get under way. Time to put an end to the pointless civil war and halt the nonsense squabbling to unite against the Blight.

•º•.•º•

The air was still heavy with fog when Aedan crested the top of the hill that lead across the bridge to Redcliffe castle. He had left in the wee morning hours, leaving Solona and Keran in hopes of getting back to his room before he could be properly missed. It was still dark out, the sun a while away from cresting the horizon when he walked through the front gates and entered the castle proper. He managed to get back to his room without incident and heaved a small sigh of relief, hanging up his still slightly damp cloak and tore off his clothes, tossing them carelessly over the back of a chair. It was only when he started getting dressed again in fresh clothes that he noticed a leather-bound book on his bed and froze. Someone had been in his room while he was gone? Who? Furthermore, who would leave him a book? Surely not Fergus. If his older brother had known that he'd slipped out of the castle, he most likely would have come looking.

Cautiously, Aedan walked over to the side of his bed and picked the journal up, treating it like it was a snake about to bite and flipped open the first page.

_I have entrusted this work to you because I believe that we are of a like mind. That you are a friend to mages and are absolutely in so much over your head that conspiring with a traitor Templar is the least of your worries._

_In this journal I will attempt to explain why I found it necessary to write this at all and teach you how to defend yourself from Maleficar. Yes, I am going to commit one of the ultimate sins and teach you to be like a Templar. Keep this secret and safe, for if it is discovered by the wrong people, it would surely mean death for you and most likely any involved in your doings. If I have judged you right, news of the consequences will not be a surprise to you. This sin on top of the others that you have already committed will perhaps seem like a trifle, or at least somewhat redundant, and so I feel secure in giving you the means to think like I do._

_Above all, keep this journal secret, and keep it safe. If you are not already in imminent peril, then this journal getting into the wrong hands will certainly put you there. This is merely a tool, a guide, and therefore cannot prepare you for the worst of what is beyond these pages. I will do my best to educate you and to give you a solid foundation on which you rest your skills, but mere words cannot provide all of the answers. Some you will have to find for yourself. If this seems too monumental of a task, then I implore you to burn this journal immediately. Do not bury it, do not hide it in a crevice, for it will surely find its way back into the wrong hands and whoever it is that you protect will certainly find themselves under intense scrutiny from the Chantry that I know you're hiding from._

_I hope you find this helpful, or you pretend that you never found it at all. May the Maker keep his gaze on you._

_ -D_

He couldn't believe what he was reading. Dumbstruck, Aedan stared blankly at the first line again, not really reading the words as he tried to process what he'd just read. Hastily, he flipped through the book, scanning the pages to find that the whole thing was filled front and back with words and illustrations, magic circles and phrases of the Chant underscored with red ink. Who could have-?

A knock came at the door and Aedan nearly jumped out of his skin with surprise, nearly throwing the book across the room and had to scramble to keep it from hitting the floor. Panicking in that brief second, he stuffed the incriminating tome under his pillow and tried to arrange himself to look calm and collected before opening the door.

In the hall was the messenger boy, looking fairly awake now that he'd been running all around the castle. "Ser! Arl Eamon sent for you. He requests that you please report to the great hall immediately. The Wardens are back, Ser."

"The Wardens?" So concentrated on trying to appear normal Aedan almost didn't understand the summons. Then he got himself together and nodded. "I'll be there very soon."

Dismissed, the boy ran off to go do his next errand, leaving Aedan to firmly shut the door behind himself and let loose a long sigh of relief. He went back over to the bed and fished out the book, weighing it in his hands carefully. Dare he read it? It wasn't a question to him of whether or not reading the journal would be crossing the line as far as the Chantry was concerned. Whoever the author was had been right about being so deep underwater that it didn't particularly matter if he broke a few more rules; the end result would be the same either way if he was caught. His dilemma came with wondering how Solona would react to him picking up tips from a Templar book. Would she think that he didn't trust her like he'd said, or embrace it as a reassurance that even if one day she did go out of control that he would be able to stop her?

Weighing the book in his hand, Aedan decided that it was a matter best left for later and tucked the journal back under the pillow, hoping that nobody would think him juvenile enough to be stuffing contraband away like a child. He checked to see if anything else had been hidden around his room and left, eager to see what news the Wardens had brought from Orzammar.

When he arrived in the great hall, it was to see Eamon already there with Teagan at his side. Fergus arrived shortly after, and the Wardens, who had apparently been waiting in the adjoining hallway came out now that it appeared that the whole party was here. Immediately, Aedan noticed that Theron looked… almost tranquil. Having known the Dalish to be moody and stern in even his most light-hearted moods, it was strange to see the elf so calm. It took a little to notice that it marking him as tranquil wasn't exactly the right word. It was more melancholy, and he had to wonder what had put the elf in such a dour mood.

Arl Eamon opened up the conversation first, as was his right. "I understand that you have acquired all of the allies you could?"

Theron nodded. "We have. The mages, elves and dwarves all honor their pact with the Gray Wardens."

"That's good. We can call the Landsmeet then, if you are ready. I would prefer not giving Loghain time to consider. Ever since my revival, there have been well-founded rumors that the Landsmeet would be called eventually, and I have no doubt that Loghain has been putting his pieces in place." The Arl said, looking over the Wardens and the Cousland brothers. "But in the end, it is up to you. I do not wish to go to Denerim unless you are with me." Fergus nodded in agreement to that statement, and Aedan gave Alistair a small nod as well. It would be useless to show up without the Wardens at this point, not to mention incredibly dangerous given their tenuous position.

"Then we go to Denerim now." Theron replied in a neutral tone, shifting his weapons on his back into a more comfortable position. "I'd like to see this over with as soon as the rest of you."

"Excellent." Eamon seemed relieved to hear it, his grim look even cracking a little in favor of a smile. "I shall make the arrangements. Fergus, Aedan, I trust that you will have your men in order as well. Let us be off to Denerim and may the Maker watch over us."

"We're leaving now." Theron spoke up before Eamon could dismiss the meeting and they all went their separate ways. Tense silence immediately broke out following his statement, and Theron took his time filling it. "Armies take time to mobilize, and are slow to move. Do what you need to do, but we're moving on ahead to Denerim, and we'll meet you there. If it's alright with you," he looked at Aedan and spared a quick glance at Fergus, "then we'll lay low in your manor, as we did before while we wait for your combined forces to catch up with us. If Loghain should make a preemptive strike, then it is for the best that we are not both caught up in the trap."

Eamon and Teagan spared each other a glance and the Arl cleared his throat. "I see your point. If you believe it is for the best, then so be it. We will meet again in Denerim."

"My thanks, Arl." Theron gave Eamon a short bow. "May your road be safe." With the pleasantries exchanged, the two Wardens left the hall, but not before Theron could meet with Aedan's eye and jerk his head toward the hall, indicating that he should follow. Fergus saw the action and came as well, leaving Eamon and Teagan to talk to each other without them.

Theron and Alistair led them off of the main hallway, into one of the smaller halls adjoining and waited for Fergus and Aedan to catch up. Theron eyed Fergus with some hesitation, but seemed to shrug off any uncertainty he had about the man and simply accept his presence. "I need to tell you the reason that we're leaving now instead of waiting to travel in the safety of the group."

Aedan perked up at that, whereas Fergus became visibly more apprehensive. "What do you mean?" Aedan asked, his voice dropping low so as not to be overhead.

Uncharacteristically, Theron seemed lost for words and stared into space somewhere beyond Aedan's shoulder. Alistair mercifully filled in for him. "It's the darkspawn." He supplied in an equally low tone, aware that there were ears everywhere, even in an ally's home. "On our way back from Orzammar, we were attacked. But it wasn't just a random attack. We were _targeted_." He looked to Theron to see if the elf felt up to supplying the rest, but the other Warden kept his silence. "We can't risk Eamon's army, not if the Archdemon is getting smarter, tracking us. Besides, if we're moving by ourselves, then we can go faster. Less chance of the darkspawn catching us that way."

"You don't think that the darkspawn will follow you into Denerim?" Fergus asked.

Theron shook his head, deciding to join the conversation once again. "No, Denerim is swarming with guards, Loghain's and Howe's. The darkspawn wouldn't stand a chance coming at us in strike parties behind the city's walls. The faster we get there, the better it will be for all of us, unless the Archdemon decides to mount a full-scale attack, but then…" He shrugged. "Well, that's what we're preparing for anyway, right?"

As much as nobody liked the thought of the darkspawn launching a full-scale attack when they were still unsure of their standing with Loghain's forces, no one could deny his logic. "We'll see you in Denerim, then. Do you have any messages for those in the manor? I assume that Kallian didn't leave the city."

Fergus blinked at that, looking to his brother to see if Aedan knew what Theron was talking about and Aedan mentally flinched. With planning a war and nearly dying, he'd forgotten to tell Fergus about half the Alienage living in their basement. "No, not really. Just let her know that we're still all right, and that we'll be home a day or two after you arrive.

Theron nodded, the message simple enough to remember. "We'll pass it on. Good luck, safe travels."

"To you as well." Aedan replied.

Fergus waited until the Wardens were out of earshot before rounding on his brother. "Who is Kallian and what did he mean by _others?_"

Aedan winced. "It's… a long story. I'll explain it on the way to do a review of the soldiers."

* * *

><p>Hello children of the night! Little update for ya'll to start things off right on this Friday morning. I'm sure some of you are caught up in the Black Friday madness (if you're in America), and for my fellow patriots, I hope you all had a happy Thanksgiving. In the spirit of this holiday, I wanted to thank everyone who commented, followed, favorited, and looked at this story. Seeing alerts in my inbox really gives me the inspiration and confidence to continue on with the tale, knowing that you all like what I've written for you. I hope that you all will continue to support HoH as the endgame draws near and the Landsmeet looms on the horizon. As you may well know, all the exciting things happen when the Arl gets back to Denerim, and I've had bits of chapters floating around for months in anticipation of the big moment.<p>

The next chapter is already done, so I'll probably put it up in a few days once I've had it groomed for errors and what-not. However, finals are in two weeks, so another hiatus is probably imminent. Keep your eyes peeled for news. The next sequence has been one of my favorite parts to write, simply because the lovely plot developers of BioWare have given me plenty of drama fodder to feed off of. Again, many thanks for getting this far. I hope that everyone has a lovely holiday weekend, and I'll see you all on the next update!

P.S. It's quite funny looking through these chapters in the fanfiction edit screen. I had forgotten that I had added the cities, names, and countries into my dictionary in Microsoft word, so seeing them all with red squiggles makes me appreciate the ability to do so. Otherwise that program would hate me and I would probably never get anything done.


	41. Shadow Games

Magister Denailah was not usually the type of person to get her own hands dirty if it could be absolutely avoided. She was the type of woman that kept her nails perfectly even and manicured without a spec of dirt to be found. Furthermore, the tending of her nails was not usually a task she did herself, having plenty of servants and apprentices hanging about more than willing to attend the task for her. On this occasion however, she was willing to risk damaging those perfect nails in a last ditch effort to keep from having her entire life ruined. Stooping to the level of thug work that she was about to participate in was fully justified if success meant that she wouldn't be subjected to the loss of public station back in the Imperium, which was a startling realistic problem at this moment in time.

Her little business had been doing quite well. The money that she had borrowed to start off the whole thing had already paid itself back with the blood money of slaves from Ferelden. The elves that were coming in on a regular basis were so much healthier than the ones bred at home, and each new shipment had sold out at an astonishing rate. She could charge ridiculous sums for the elves since they were such good condition, and life had been easy and plenty full of money. If the operation could have just continued that way for a while longer...

But the shipments started coming back half full and her men were dwindling rapidly in numbers. Even sending Lloyd, one of her rising pupils, hadn't been enough to stop the downward slide of her profit margin and he had died in the attempt to fix whatever problem was gumming up the operation. She was literally scraping the bottom of the barrel now and paying out the nose for it with no noticeable improvement to her bottom line. She'd even had to take out a loan to try and hire a better task force, but whoever was stealing her slaves and killing her men, her _expensive_ men, weren't giving up without a battle. She didn't so much care for their lives as she did for the wasted money that had been flying out of her starving coin purse. Now the person she'd gotten the loan from was asking for repayment and she didn't have anything left to give. To make matters worse, he had been very clear that if she couldn't pay her dues then there was no guarantee that she wouldn't end up in chains herself for a start in paying off the debt. If appearing in Ferelden herself didn't get the job done, then there was simply no going home.

It was an all-or-nothing gamble, and she had no choice but to roll the dice.

•º•.•º•

It was a breezy evening, the wind off the ocean blowing away the smell of city stench that usually followed after a heavy downpour in Denerim. Kallian was taking advantage of the rarity, lounging on the roof of the Cousland manor house, a heel of bread in hand and just looked out over the city. Up here behind the thick walls surrounding the manor, it was quiet. Removed from the hustle and bustle of the city below, it was peaceful, almost serene in its quietness.

She had been sitting there perhaps an hour or more when her keen eye for detail finally broke through the lull and she was alerted to something moving on the edge of the perimeter. Kallian stiffened and got down low against the roof to keep hidden, looking sharply for whatever had alerted her. Painfully long moments passed and nothing happened until she began to question whether she'd even seen anything at all. Then a shadow within a shadow shifted, and she tracked the movement. Whoever it was knew what they were doing, sticking to the wall near the small entrance and keeping to the shadows, unseen by a less perceptive eye. The garden maze gave a perfect place to take cover from unwanted eyes and the shadow slipped away from the protection of the wall, into the maze.

Her curiosity piqued, Kallian made a silent rush to the edge of the manor, quickly scaling the wall and was down to the bottom in no time. She crouched low and kept to the wall of the manor as she made her way to the entrance of the maze, keeping her back to the light and stopped to listen. There was silence for a long time, then the rustle of leaves and the snap of a branch. Knowing which way to go, Kallian navigated the maze with practiced ease, her feet carrying her lightly over the fine gravel that would otherwise betray her by making noise that would give away her position. Something told her to stop and she quickly came to a halt, not even daring to breathe with her hands within twitching distance of her sword hilts.

In the next row over she heard an exhale and a boot stepping forward toward the end of the row. Whoever it was would round the corner, and Kallian would be there to surprise them. The sound of another step came from the bushes, another, they were about to round the corner…

Kallian struck, unsheathing her blades and sprung toward the intruder with a flurry of motion. She met resistance, the screech of metal on metal sounding as her swords met with her opponent's and they were suddenly engaged in battle, the intruder obviously having heard her come from around the corner and had prepared for it. She only knocked off another hit against his blades before quickly shuffling back in a defensive stance, staring wide-eyed at the blonde Dalish elf staring right back at her.

"Theron you bloody rat scab, I almost gutted you." She bit out, sheathing her blades a little harder than was necessary and Theron did the same, putting his weapons away. "What in the name of Holy Andraste's hairy teats are you doin' sneakin' around in the dark like this?"

The Dalish leveled an unimpressed look at her choice of words. "I saw somebody on the roof. I didn't realize it was you."

Kallian heaved a sigh, puffing her bangs out of her eyes. "Sure, sure. But the better question is, what're you doin' back in Denerim? I thought you'd be minin' fer darkspawn still."

Theron's face clearly depicted just how disgusted he was at the thought of staying in the Deep Roads any longer than he had to. "We finished what we set out to do at Orzammar, and now we're here to finish what we started and get all of Ferelden to rally against the Blight. Arl Eamon is only a day or two behind."

"An' Basher an' Ammy? They okay?" Her tone betrayed some of her eagerness to hear news, having not heard a peep since they'd left. She hadn't expected letters of course. It would have been too dangerous to be communicating with the elves in the estate while they were trying to covertly get across Ferelden without attracting undue attention.

"They seemed fine." Theron replied shortly, not one to keep others in suspense for very long. "They appear to have picked up a lost relative. Aedan's elder brother, if I'm not mistaken."

Kallian whistled, surprised. "Really? They found him? Well I'll be… Good for Basher. But you said that Eamon was a day behind. Why didn't he just come with?"

"Took too long." He replied with little emotion, not particularly wanting to go through the details with the inquisitive elf. "The others are outside the city waiting for me. I came ahead to announce ourselves and make sure that the manor was still safe."

"Eh, what's a few more bodies?" Kallian noticed the abrupt change in subject, but was content to let it drop for now. If the Wardens didn't have any business for a couple of days, then she figured that there would be plenty of time for her to whittle away at Theron until she got all she wanted to know out of him.

For the first time in months, Kallian left Denerim, walking through the front gates with Theron leading the way. They found the Warden's camp just outside the walls in the forest a small distance from the main road and were greeted by Alistair and Falonfen, the mabari hound giving Kallian a thorough sniffing over before allowing her to enter camp. The first thing she noticed was that they all looked like they'd seen better days, obviously worn out from traveling and their gear was in a state of disrepair that bordered on inexcusable. Even the peppy Alistair seemed beaten down by the gloomy atmosphere.

Two new people looked back at her with the same curiosity that Kallian showed, not remembering the redheaded dwarf from last time. Lurking on the outskirts of the circle of companions was a giant humanoid stone statue with glowing crystals. At first she thought that the thing was inanimate, then it suddenly shifted, looking into the woods like it had heard something before resuming its former pose. "Maker's breath, what is _that_?_" _She hissed quietly to Theron, staring openly at the moving rock.

"That," He replied with a small grin "is Shale. A golem, one of the dwarven constructs that helped them to push back the darkspawn in the Deep Roads. Just careful mentioning anything about birds around her."

"Her?" Kallian seemed bewildered that a hunk of moving rock could have a gender at all, let alone female.

"Sure. Shale doesn't particularly care if we call her a her, or a he, or an it. She doesn't remember what she was before she was a golem." Theron supplied, walking to what was apparently his spot in the camp and picked up a heavy looking pack full of supplies. "Everyone pack up, we're headed into the city." The order was met with activity, the others in the group gathering what supplies they had and getting things in order to be ready to move out.

"Not to burst your bubble here…" Kallian moved to Theron's side, speaking quietly and still shooting looks at Shale, bewildered by the stone behemoth. "But you guys aren't exactly an inconspicuous group."

Theron looked over his rag-tag team and shrugged as if it didn't matter. "There's not much we can do about it. We've gotten through Denerim's gate's before, we'll do it again."

In the end Kallian convinced them that it would be dangerous to try and walk through the front gates with a golem, and a merchant dwarf that had apparently been traveling with the Wardens on and off through the past year offered his cart space. Shale reluctantly agreed after Theron spent nearly half an hour convincing her that it wasn't that he feared for the golem's safety, but that of the rest of the town. The cart protested Shale's weight but they got the golem in and concealed and managed to get through the front gates and avoid being harassed by the guards.

Once back inside the Highever compound Shale was released and the others went ahead to claim sleeping spaces inside the manor. Theron stayed behind to talk to the merchant that had accompanied him and after their conversation joined Kallian by the front gate, checking to see if anyone had taken peculiar interest in the event that had just unfolded.

"So." Kallian began, swinging the huge gates shut and locking them tight once the dwarf merchant was on his way, back to join the fuss in the market square. "What was it like? Orzammar, I mean. I heard that they've a whole city bigger than Denerim under a mountain."

Theron's response was a blustery sigh and a disgusted look. "The reality is worse than the rumors." The statement only served to make Kallian more curious, and sensing that avoiding the subject would be futile, he turned to head for the backyard, Kallian following easily. "The city is indeed under a mountain. Their lives revolve completely around the stone. Their houses are carved into the sides of the mountain… even their beds are made of stone. How any dwarf gets a decent night's sleep is utterly beyond me." They were well away from the front gate now, and Theron wandered into the maze behind the manor, glad to be among living green things even if they were just decorative bushes. "To make matters worse, the whole city is hot as a smithy. The dwarves have solved their problem of needing light by allowing _lava_ to flow down their walls and form in great lakes at the bottom of the city. It's a miracle that the whole of Orzammar doesn't slide into the lava and perish."

"Wow… Seems like you _really_ didn't like the place, huh?" Kallian quipped, silently wondering if an extended stay in a city that he obviously hated so much had put him and his whole group in such down spirits. Honestly, she doubted it to be the true reason.

"Elves weren't meant to live underground." Was the short terse reply that Theron gave. He stopped when they came to a T-intersection with only the choice to go left or right. "It's been a long week." He finally admitted in a quiet voice, threading his fingers through his short hair and turned to face Kallian. "Thank you for your hospitality. I think I'll go sleep off the past few days now." With a nod Theron left, going back the way that they'd come and leaving Kallian to her own thoughts, wondering what exactly had transpired since the last time that they'd seen the Wardens.

•º•.•º•

After having no success in subtly or otherwise not-so-subtly extracting information from the Warden's group, Kallain had taken to the city and done some scouting, planning on keeping herself busy while she came up with new strategies for figuring out how to find what she wanted. Her first attempts at finding out from Bodahn were less than successful. He was more prone to talking than anyone else, but he was skimpy on the details that she really wanted to know. Sure, he was great for telling all about where they'd been and the end result of things, but apparently the dwarf trader didn't actually go on any adventures himself, preferring to stay safely away from the best of the action.

Zevran had been a hopeful target of her inquiry, but in the end he declined to reveal any more than she already knew, turning the subject to massage techniques whenever she started asking questions that would lead to anything useful. When she blatantly asked why he was avoiding the subject, she got a rather disheartening reply.

"I owe our dear Warden a great debt. If he doesn't want you to know, then I am not the one to tell you." Then promptly launched into a tale about the time that he had given false information to an _inquisitor_ who had used some rather unconventional techniques to try and convince him to give up his real objective. Kallian left it at that and tried stirring up conversation with the other members of the party, but got more or less the same response. Whatever had happened in Orzammar was apparently staying in Orzammar. Typical.

Afterwards, she took some of her frustration out on a couple of human urchins that had been creeping in on Knifer territory around the marketplace and sent them scampering away with their tails between their legs. Otherwise her day was uneventful and she only came back to the manor because she was tired of pointlessly running around roofs all day.

The moon was high in the sky by the time that she made it through the side gate and back into the Highever compound and was dead-set on a path to lead her back into her room. She consoled herself by optimistically hoping that a good night's sleep would put all of their guests in a better mood to open up and talk about their journey. If not, then she was not above boozing the lot of them as a last resort. She had just entered the hallway to her own room and was in the process of removing her sword belts when one of the doors suddenly banged open and a shirtless Theron stomped into the hallway, not evening noticing Kallian and headed to the back of the manor, straight on a path that would lead him outside.

Startled and curious, Kallian peeked inside Theron's room to make sure that there were no strangled assassins in there that he had possibly just killed before slinging her swords over her shoulder and followed along quietly after the Dalish, keeping far behind. Her stealth wasn't really needed, for Theron didn't even so much as glance over his shoulder the whole way, walking straight outside and made a b-line for the garden. She lost him briefly after the entrance to the maze, but only had to follow the sound of his bare feet on the fine gravel to find where he'd gone again.

When she found him, he was sitting on one of the stone benches that marked a dead end, bowed over with his head in his hands over his eyes and what appeared to be a locket clutched tightly in his right hand. In the pale moonlight he almost looked like a specter with his nearly white hair and pale skin, the scars of many battles standing as reminders of past hardships. One in particular caught her eye, a large scar that wrapped around his upper forearm that marred what had once been a scrawling tattoo in the same style as the one on his face. It looked like a bite, but was much larger than the one that belonged to any animal Kallian knew of. Before she could ask about it, she would have to see what all the stomping and door slamming was about.

After standing just around the corner for a few silent moments and Theron not moving an inch, Kallian decided to make herself known, purposely scuffing her boot in the gravel. Theron's reaction was instantaneous, on his feet in the blink of an eye and ready for battle, his hands going for weapons that weren't there.

When he saw that it was only Kallian he relaxed a fraction, sitting back down on the bench. "What do you want?" His rolling Dalish accent was back in full, a change from the neutral accent he had sported earlier in the day when his concentration had been better.

Kallian stepped into the light of the moon, her back to the nearest bush. "I saw you leave the manor." She replied unhelpfully, nodding her head toward the general direction from which he'd come. "I was concerned. I don't usually see ya get up an' run like that."

Theron stared at her like he didn't believe her, then heaved a heavy sigh and dropped his head back into his hands. "It's fine. Just leave me be."

She frowned at that, coming closer and inviting herself to sit down next to him, which earned her a poisonous glare. "So, you get up in the middle 'o the night an' run around half-clothed all the time, eh? That don't sound fine to me."

"Look, I appreciate your concern, but it's not something you can help with." He replied and stood, tense from head to toe and looking like he wanted nothing but the flee the scene. In a quieter tone that he probably thought she couldn't hear, he said: "It's not something _anyone_ can help me with."

Kallian stood slowly, her hands open like she was trying to calm a scared animal. "Whatever it is, it's eatin' you." She said in a soft tone, trying to meet Theron's eyes and only being partially successful at the attempt. "I'm pretty good with handlin' tragedy. Why don't you try me?"

Theron met her stare with one of his own, his eyes pitch black in the darkness of the night and was silent for so long that Kallian was sure that he was going to retreat again, perhaps this time for good. She thought she'd lost him when he turned as if to leave, but he didn't retreat any futher, just stood there and looked up at the sky.

"Ever since I became a Warden, I've done nothing but fight." He began in a quiet voice, barely audible even in the silence of the maze garden. "Becoming a Warden saved my life. I gave up everything to become what I am now… my family, friends, history, _everything._ But I lived on when others died. It is a great honor to be a Warden. Seldom are we picked for greatness instead of clawing our way to the top, but here was this opportunity given to me by a stroke of bad luck." A bitter chuckle escaped him, and he touched the scar on his arm that looked like a bite, looking at Kallian over his shoulder, the tattoo across his shoulder blades shifting as he did so. "It's not just darkspawn that I've slew on this journey. Men, elves, dwarves, and even myths like dragons and werewolves have fallen to these bloodied hands. I was bitten by one, a werewolf, and surely would have turned into one of those creatures if the Taint that flows in my veins would allow me to be two monsters at once. I had to choose revenge for my people, or saving myself so that the mission could continue. But that was not the hardest choice that I've had to make.

"Seeing humans die is no horrible tragedy, and the elves that ally themselves are little better. Dwarves hold no place in my heart for pity, and it is a joy to slay the darkspawn. Except for one." Here he paused, clenching his fists and turned fully to face Kallian. "When Duncan found me, the Grey Warden that led the Ferelden branch, I had suffered a grievous affliction of the Taint. I would have died within a fortnight if he hadn't taken me as part of the order. But that day there was another whom I called brother. I thought he had died that day, but fate was not so kind." His tone became bitter, his words bitten off as if it were hard to get them out. "He lived, and we were reunited, but it wasn't a heartfelt meeting. Do you know what happens to people who survive the Taint once afflicted?"

Kallian was silent for a moment. "I hadn't heard of any survivors." She responded quietly, hoping he wouldn't begrudge her lack of knowledge and decide that explaining was a lost cause.

"They normally don't." He supplied, the bitter tone of his voice tempered somewhat. "But when they do, they become something not quite living. They are transformed by the darkspawn blood, changed into a thoughtless creature that performs as the archdemon instructs, killing and pillaging like any other darkspawn. I knew this, and yet when I saw Tamlen I… hesitated. He was a ghoul and wanted nothing more than to rip out my heart, but still I couldn't put the sword to him. Couldn't put him out of his misery, misery that _I _had caused!" Theron visibly trembled, and seeing that Kallian didn't even need him to explain just who Tamlen was. Whoever it had been to the Dalish, obviously it was somebody he had cared about greatly to produce such a strong reaction. "There was just enough left of him that he knew what he was… Leliana had to do it for me." He finally admitted, shame in his voice. "An arrow in his chest put him down when he attacked me and still I could not bear arms against him. He died, and thanked me for an end to his suffering…"

Theron abruptly turned and started walking away, angrily pushing back his hair, leaving a startled Kallian to catch up with him. "I wouldn't have been able to do it." She said quietly, walking just a step behind him. "If it were one of my cousins, or Ammy."

"I was weak." He bit back bitterly, continuing his path. "A Grey Warden is many things, but not _weak._ You asked once why we aren't called the Red Wardens, but now I know why. We walk the razor's edge between light and darkness. We are monsters of a different kind. There is no _right_ or _wrong_, there is only the Blight, the darkspawn, and what we must do to stop it, whatever the cost. There is no room for weakness. Duncan knew that when he pulled me away from my clan. I hated him for that coldness, but now I see why it was necessary."

They walked in silence for a while, taking what seemed like a random path through the maze with no particular direction or goal in mind when Kallian finally filled the silence. "When my ma was still alive, she told me somethin' once. 'Don't mistake compassion for weakness, Kallian', she said. She'd nearly bungled a job because she went back for her runnin' mate, who'd gotten caught in a trap and was hurt somethin' fierce. He died of his injuries later, but she didn't beat herself up about it, just sad that she couldn't save 'im sooner." She waited a moment to let the message sink in, then reached out and lightly touched Theron on the arm, making him look at her. "This life ain't all roses, but if you get mean an stop carin' 'bout others, that's when you cross that line. It sounds t'me that if you gotta be in the middle, then ya can't just be heartless like yer sayin'."

He didn't respond to that for a long and moment there was silence again until they came to the center of the maze where the hedges cleared and made room for the gazebo. Theron walked up into the construct, touching the handrails as he went. "That may be true." He conceded in a low voice. "But my primary duty is to stop the Blight in all of its forms, and staying my hand for a childhood friend is not an acceptable lapse in judgment."

She stilled at hearing that, wondering how much he believed his own words. "If that ain't a good a time as any to hesitate, then I don't know a better one." Kallian finally replied quietly after a stretch in silence.

Theron glanced at her over his shoulder, sizing her up briefly and turned his attention back skyward. "I'm heading back inside. Sleeping in safety is a luxury that we seldom get these days."

"Hey." Kallian interrupted Theron before he could walk off, and he hesitated just long enough for her to speak again. "Well, it's not like I've got the whole world on my shoulders, but I know a thing or two 'bout takin' care of people. If you gotta talk, or just wanna fight, you come see me, alright?"

He seemed to silently debate over the offer before nodding. "Thank you. Good night."

"'Night." Theron left for the manor, leaving Kallian behind to wonder at the shape of the elf's character and consider what to do if it turned out that stopping the Blight would come at the price of putting her people to the sword.

* * *

><p>Theron… he is such a sad little Warden. The poor bugger has been putting on a front the whole Blight. I've thought about making excerpts of his journey as a companion piece to this story. Not the whole kit-and-kaboodle sequence, just reactions to important emotional points that may or may not be scripted in the Dragon Age game. It would be more like a collection of short one-shots than anything, really, but I think it might be worth it. Stories about male Mahariels are quite rare from what I've seen.<p>

So anyway, the Wardens are in Denerim and Arl Eamon is headed that way soon, and we all know what happens when Arl Eamon gets to Denerim! That's _right!_ Queen rescuing time! The next few chapters are going to be pretty hectic, so I hope ya'll are ready for everything that I can throw at you! I think I'll get back to updating once a week regularly. Mondays seem to be a popular day, so next week at the same time check your inboxes for the next fun installment.


	42. Hazards of Nobility and Other Misfortune

He had been jumpy for most of the morning, keeping a sharp eye out for anyone that sent him suspicious looks. Aedan could not be more relieved to put Redcliffe to his back and head toward Denerim where there wasn't a detachment of Templars waiting to round up any straggling apostates. After spending the majority of the day with a blasphemous book under his bed and the knowledge that his own personal apostate was hiding not too far away under that kind of scrutiny, he was understandably relieved to get a move on. Once out in the open air with nary a bucket-head in sight, he had been calm enough to realize that the journal probably belonged to the Templar that had cornered him in the village. David? Darien? Dick? Whatever his name was, he was sure it started with a D.

The sacrilegious journal was hidden in his saddlebag, wrapped in an oiled paper and put in a bag that held other sensitive documents pertinent to their campaign, all bundled up locked in a box to which he held the only key. He wasn't chancing somebody accidentally running across the damned thing, and it was only after he'd packed his bags that he realized he was more worried about people finding out about the journal than he was about them finding about Solona, and had a little laugh at his own expense. The pages held a wealth of information on the training of Templars, even detailing the effects of lyrium dust and the stages of withdrawal, and he'd been silently horrified that the Chantry subjected its Templars to such a slow torture that always seemed to end in babbling madness. Looking back, he wondered if all of the Templars that he and Solona had put an end to in their quest for freedom had been the kinder death.

Still, there were valuable things within the journal that could be utilized without the need of lyrium. Many of the mind training exercises used to keep blood mages at bay seemed like they would be particularly helpful in the event of the unthinkable and did not require the use of the addictive 'dwarf dust'. Still, he planned on waiting to actually utilize the journal until he'd had a talk with Solona. After the events in the village, he didn't want to give her any reason to think that he was going back on his assurances that he trusted her. It simply wouldn't do after finally getting some of the walls between them to stand aside. It was slow progress, but progress all the same. What lay at the end of this progress, however, wasn't something he was exactly sure of. Any time he thought back to their conversation in Solona's room, Kallian's quiet warning to be careful nagged at the back of his mind.

Sitting alone waiting for the other two thirds of his party to show up (he had to count Keran, or else the mabari would become cross) had given him plenty of time to be introspective, and after spending the majority of that time wondering about all the possible ways that Solona could have been captured, killed, or similarly have met a gruesome end he realized he was unnaturally concerned about the mage's wellbeing. That revelation was followed quickly by a devious little voice in his brain that told him he had probably fallen in love with the mage, and that if he were already one foot in, why not just take the plunge? Kallian's warning about exactly what would happen to his manly parts if he screwed up their fragile relationship echoed in his ears, and he cursed when it occurred to him that the nosy elf had probably expected this all along. Damn women and their womanly intuition.

His horse was waiting, lipping at the reigns looped over what was left of a weather beaten fence post, giving a great sigh every once and a while, bored. The rest of the army was moving on toward Denerim following the old Highway, and Aedan quietly watched the rising dust cloud marking the combined forces and tried to push out the complicated nature of his thoughts involving a certain blue-eyed mage girl.

Before he could start to worry in earnest, Keran crested a small hill and with his tongue lolling out made a dash for Aedan, barking joyfully to be reunited with his master. Solona appeared soon after; a small smile on her face to see the big war hound nearly barreled Aedan over in his exuberance. Once Keran had covered the underside of Aedan's chin in drool he ran back and grabbed Solona's sash and dragged her over at a fast walk, eager to be all reunited again.

The mage laughed at the hound's antics, patting the mabari on his broad head. "He's been eager all morning, pacing by the door and whining when he though I'd taken too long packing." Keran made a grumbling noise at her, and she chuckled. "Yes, I'm happy to be here too, don't worry." To that he simply barked, wagging his stubby tail and went to inspect the horse.

"I'm glad that we'll be moving as a group again." Aedan reached out and took Solona's meager bag of personal belongings, roping it onto his horse's saddle along with all of the other supplies. "I missed you."

He was amused to see Solona's cheeks flush a delicate shade of pink, and she concentrated on the horizon instead of looking at Aedan. "Well, I'm sure that we'll be able to make up for lost time. It's going to be a long few days on the road."

"Indeed, but before we set off…" He touched Solona's arm briefly and she swung her gaze on him, biting her lip. "I got a message from that Templar." Immediately she became wary, gripping her staff tighter. "He wants to help us, I think. Me, specifically. When I got back to the castle, a journal had been left on my bed. Its pages could teach me how to be a Templar, with all of the abilities and a guideline for training." His news delivered, Aedan waited silently to see what Solona had to say on the subject.

Her nails dug into the wood shaft of her staff, fright passing over her features. She closed her eyes and let her head drop, seeming to think a moment over what this new development meant. "You can't become a Templar." She finally said, raising her head so that she could look at Aedan. "Not a proper one, at least. The young ones… they don't know what they're getting themselves into when they first swear their vows. By the time the effects of the lyrium start showing up, it's too late to turn back. You _can't_ do that to yourself, Aedan."

"The journal told me what would eventually happen." Aedan replied, folding his arms casually across his chest. "If I were to do this, it would be for your peace of mind, not for me. I want you to understand that."

She looked a little like a deer caught in the hunter's sights, eyes large with the desire to run but unable to bring her legs to move for her. Eventually something seemed to give and her shoulders drooped. "I can't ask you to do it, not for me. The risks… outweigh the benefits so much. If there was no lyrium addiction and the consequences… then I would like to have someone to keep me in check nearby, I cannot lie. But giving up your mind for a small sense of security is not a price I can ask you to pay. Not to mention that acquiring lyrium dust outside of the Circle and the Chantry's reach is risky business at the best of times."

"Then I'll do my best without the lyrium." He gave Solona a small smile when she shot him a surprised look. "The journal is very thorough. There are plenty of mind strengthening exercises that don't require lyrium as an enhancer."

With a sad smile Solona shook her head, seeming more amused than anything. "You do too much for me, Aedan. Thank you."

He returned the smile with one of his own and gestured toward the horse. "Let's get on with this journey then. I'm sure that Kallian is missing us quite fiercely. Come on, let me give you a leg up."

•º•.•º•

The Redcliffe estate in Denerim was similar to the Highever estate, and nearly as big. Being the brother to the Rebel Queen had naturally allotted Eamon a suitable station once the dust of the revolution had settled, and unlike the Highever estate, it had not been abandoned for months on end with layers of dust as evidence of absence. After arriving in the city, the group of nobles had split up to arrange their affairs and word was sent to the Wardens to gather.

As it turned out, a large number of willing recruits had amassed at the Highever estate looking to help join the Couslands in ending the madness. Kallian had been up to her neck making sure that nobody was there as a spy and had demonstrated her fierceness as a warrior despite her status as an elf several times in order to pull the congregation of humans into line.

Rebecca was busier than normal and made sure to give Fergus an earful when he walked through the door, admonishing on his semi-starved state and insisted on feeding him before anything else could get done. Theron had been watching the madness unfold from a safe distance away, looming on the balconies as far away from the masses of humanity as he could get despite heckling from Kallian to try and get him to come down. The rest of the Warden's companions had scattered through the house, though Wynne was overcome by her nature as a healer and had been sticking close to Kallian's side to make sure that the red head didn't get in over her head with her brash form of leadership. Things became easier when the body of their trained force entered the courtyard and sobered up the recruitment candidates up quite nicely. After that it was just a matter of outfitting as many as they could and organizing the new ranks.

Once Rebecca was done sobbing over the return of the Cousland brothers and the house staff had thoroughly gawked at Fergus, Alistair and Theron had been rounded up and they all went back to the Redcliffe estate. Emon was waiting for them in the main hall and ready to launch into his speech about their strategy for the Landsmeet that the Wardens had missed out on. The Arl only managed a few sentences into the speech when the doors of the manor suddenly opened, the crier looking positively flabbergasted when he quickly ran up to the group and announced that the Regent Loghain was on his way.

Barely a heartbeat had passed when the doors opened again, this time admitting three individuals. First came the Teyrn himself, Loghain heading off the group in his polished sliver battle armor, a grim look on his face. Trailing close behind was a woman that none of them recognized, and the third face was despised instantly by both of the Cousland brothers. Rendon Howe had finally shown his face.

Howe recognized the boys immediately but seemed unconcerned with the glares that they shot him. Instead, he returned their murderous looks with a smirk of self-satisfaction and Fergus had to put a hand on Aedan's arm to keep him from rushing forward and opening combat.

Eamon was the first to react, though he was obviously just as startled as the rest of them that their enemy had come marching down the hall. "Loghain. This is… an honor, that the regent would find time to greet me personally."

The Regent spared the others gathered around Eamon only a cursory glance, but his issue was with the Arl, and he had no patience for dealing with others. "How could I not welcome a man so important as to call every lord in Ferelden away from his estates while a Blight claws at our land?" If it weren't already obvious that Loghain was no fan of Eamon being up and around again, his tone conveyed it very plainly.

"The Blight is why I'm here." Eamon had quickly recovered from his surprise and seemed ready to battle on par with Loghain. "With Cailan dead, Ferelden must have a king to lead it against the darkspawn."

"Ferelden has a strong leader, it's queen. And I lead her armies." Loghain growled in response, fairly bristling with anger.

"Considering Ostagar," Theron piped up, folding his arms across his chest, "then perhaps we should consider a new general. Wouldn't want a nasty repeat of that little incident."

Loghain paid attention to the elf for the first time, rounding his gaze on the smaller Warden. "Ah, the Grey Warden recruit. I though we might meet again. You have my sympathies on what happened to your order. It is unfortunate that they chose to turn against Ferelden."

Theron sneered at that, obviously tensing as if he were trying hard not to lash out at the Teyrn. "Save your condolences. On principle, I do not take sympathy from traitors, regicides, or cowards."

The comment seemed to strike home, and Loghain instantly went on the offensive, staring down Theron despite the elf's resolve not to flinch or shy away from the rather intimidating man. "You should curb your tongue. This is _my_ city, and no safe place to speak treason. For anyone." He cast a meaningful look at Eamon, sizing the Arl up as his next target. "There is talk that your illness left you feeble, Eamon. Some worry that you may no longer be fit to advise Ferelden."

"Illness?" He scoffed in return. "Why not call your poison by its true name? Not everyone at the Landsmeet will cast aside their loyalties as easily as you and these… sycophants."

"How long you've been gone from court, Eamon! Don't you recognize Rendon Howe, Arl of Amaranthine and Teyrn of Highever?" From his tone, it would be easy to think that Loghain was introducing a prized warhorse, rather than a fellow member of the nobility, as if Howe was some great personal achievement.

"And current Arl of Denerim, after Urien's unfortunate fate at Ostagar. Truly, it is an embarrassment of riches." Howe was quick to fill in the gap and didn't in the least sound as if he were embarrassed.

"I should demand blood rights, after what you've done." Fergus said in a low angry voice bordering on outrage, coming forward for the first time in the conversation, and Aedan was fast after him, standing at his brother's side ready to back him up. "You murdered my family!"

Howe seemed pleased that one of the Cousland brothers had decided to speak up, his self-satisfied smirk returning in full. Like a cat that had eaten the canary, the goldfish, and the pet rat and had successfully gotten away with all three acts. "You have no rights. Your family surrendered them when I revealed them to be traitors to the king."

"You think you can slander my family to my face?" Aedan stepped forward, reaching for his sword and it took Fergus to make sure that he didn't actually draw.

The woman who had been silent up to this point suddenly started for her weapon as well, moving forward slightly to take a better defensive position next to Loghain. "You are either very bold or very _stupid_ to threaten a Teyrn before witnesses." She hissed, distain wrinkling her brow.

"Enough, Cauthrine." Loghain interrupted the fight before it could escalate, though kept a wary eye on the Couslands. "This is not the time or place. I had hoped to talk you down from this rash course, Eamon. Our people are frightened: Our king is dead. Our land is under siege. We must be united now, if we are to endure this crisis. Your own sister, Queen Rowan, fought tirelessly to see Ferelden restored. Would you see her work destroyed? You divide our nation and weaken our efforts against the Blight with your selfish ambitions to the throne." He was working himself up to a fervor, sounding as if he were already delivering the speech before the Landsmeet.

"Ferelden wouldn't have needed unifying if you weren't the one to break it apart in the first place." Theron spat venomously. "You've had a whole year to unite the kingdom, and all you've done is drive it further apart."

Loghain regarded the elf like he would a speck of dirt on his immaculate war armor. "I was not talking to _you_."

"I cannot forgive what you've done, Loghain…" Eamon interjected before the sword-happy Cauthrine could get to work on making sure that Theron never interrupted them again. "Perhaps the Maker can, but not I. Our people deserve a king of the Therin bloodline. Alistair will be the one to lead us to victory in this Blight."

Alistair leaned slightly toward Theron, a sarcastic smile on his face. "Oh, is that all I have to do? No pressure…" The quip did nothing to lighten the elf's mood.

Realizing that Eamon wasn't backing down quietly, Loghain stepped forward toward the Arl, dwarfing him. "The emperor of Orlais also thought I could not bring him down. Expect no more mercy than I showed him. There is _nothing_ I would not do for my homeland." His point delivered, Loghain turned and left without a final word of goodbye, his guard and Howe following along as Eamon's doormen quickly scrambled to open the way and let the Regent out.

Once the door had closed, Eamon released a pent-up sigh and turned toward the others. "Well, that was… bracing. I didn't expect Loghain to show himself quite so soon."

"Or Howe." Fergus added, patting Aedan on the shoulder, looking not at all happy about the encounter. He was not the only one. Faces were grim all around the circle of allies.

"We can't let that snake get away with what he's done." Aedan's statement was met with a sympathetic nod from both his brother and Eamon, but there was a definite tension between the two.

"I agree, and the sooner his head is on a pike, the better off we all will be. But he'll be protected by Loghain. Attacking Howe directly before the Landsmeet will only bring more suspicion to our cause." Fergus shook his head, sounding just as bitter as he felt about the reality of the situation. "I never thought it would come to all this. I still can't believe it's real half the time. How could Loghain keep Rendon at his side after all that man has done? I thought they were honorable men once… _Father_ thought they were honorable men."

"I can sympathize with that. It is a bitter does to taste. The Chantry speaks truly about the corruption of power if a man like Loghain could go and do this." Eamon added in a quiet tone, giving the two Cousland looks of honest sympathy. "I would never have believed he would do anything but what was best for Ferelden. We need eyes and ears in the city. Loghain has been here for months. The roots of all his schemes must be here. The sooner we find them, the better we can turn them to our advantage."

"That's where I come in." Aedan added once he'd had a moment to calm back down, straightening slightly and looking directly at Eamon. "I have been here as well, and I have a reliable network of information. We've already uncovered a system of Tevinter slave traders that have been working under Howe's protection with evidence to back up our claims."

"Good, good. That's a good start. However you're finding this information, keep doing it." The Arl turned to the Wardens. "You should probably see if you can't find the nobles that have arrived for the Landsmeet. Test the waters, see how many will support us."

"I'll be there to help." Fergus offered immediately when Theron looked distasteful at the thought of getting involved in even more politics. "Not all of the banns and arls have been fooled by Loghain. Many of them should still recognize me from past Landsmeets, and might be more open to talking with a familiar face."

"You'll get no argument from me on that front." Theron replied, seeming weary before the real work had even begun.

"Excellent. Then we should probably talk strategy. Come upstairs to my sitting room and we can lay out our plans for the Landsmeet." Eamon gestured up the hall and began walking, Theron and Alistair following in tow.

Fergus hesitated, looking first to Aedan. "Go on." He said with a forced smile that was vaguely cheery. "I'll catch up. I have to go tell Kallian what's happened here and have her people start working on ferreting out more information on Howe and Loghain." Fergus nodded and went after the Arl and the Wardens, Aedan heading in the opposite direction and leaving the same way that Loghain had. For a wild moment he considered hunting them down and attacking Howe before anyone could stop him, but the moment past and he put his feet in the direction of the Highever estate, convincing himself that justice would come in all due time.

He had barely left the market district when Kallian suddenly darted around a corner ahead of him, wild-eyed and running at full tilt, Solona was hot on her heels and looking just as perturbed. When they saw him they stopped in a scramble, trying not to fall over themselves.

"Aedan! Thank the Maker we found you in time." Solona gasped, trying to catch her breath.

"What _happened?_" He asked, the feeling of their panic quickly infecting him. "What's wrong?"

"Howe." Kallian replied, catching her breath back quicker than Solona. "He found out where we were. I saw his troops gatherin' an' I didn't think nothin' of it at first, but then they started marchin' for the estate, so I ran to come find you."

"She caught me along the way. I don't know what he's thinking, but it's going to happen. Your troops need you." Solona had recovered somewhat and seemed ready to run again.

It clicked into place for Aedan, and he suddenly realized why Howe had seemed so damned assured of himself. Without saying a word, he took off running for the Redcliffe estate, a confused Solona and Kallian lagging behind, surprised that he'd taken off so quickly.

"…I have some uniforms. Arl Howe hires so many new guards every day, a few more will not- EEK!"

The door slammed open, Aedan bursting through and not at all caring that he'd run right in the middle of what looked like a very important meeting. Arl Eamon and the Wardens were staring at him like he'd grown an extra head, a dark-haired elf woman in fancy clothes recovering from her shock with a flushed face. His brother was the only one to come forward, instantly wary. "What happened?"

"Howe knows." Aedan replied, breathless. "His men are marching on us, right now."

"Here?" Eamon came forward, instantly outraged. "How dare he-"

"No." Aedan interrupted, having no time for being dramatic. "Our place."

Fergus went white as a sheet and started for the door. "He'll take the manor and our men if they aren't prepared for battle right away. It may already be too late."

"We'll help." Theron volunteered, following up on Fergus. "Wardens are the best choice if you're going up against impossible odds."

"No." Eamon interrupted, stopping them in their tracks. "This sounds like a perfect opportunity to kill Anora without anyone else noticing. You have to go rescue the Queen, or if the worst comes to pass then it would be all too easy to blame her death on me, or you."

"Kill Anora? Who's killing Anora?" Aedan asked, feeling slightly like he'd just wandered into the Fade without realizing it.

"That rat-nosed bastard Howe has your queen." Theron made a disappointed noise. "Fine. We move into Howe's estate _now_."

"If you're sacking the estate." Kallian gasped, catching up with everyone finally. "Then you're taking me. I've been studyin' maps of the place for weeks."

"Aedan, you go with them." Fergus said, gripping his brother's shoulder. "I'll go back and lead the men. Make sure that Howe doesn't get away with this. You and your people know this city better than I do."

Aedan returned the gesture, gripping Fergus' armor. "Stay safe, brother."

"Tell Sten what we're up to." Theron shot quickly before Fergus could leave. "The others will follow him. They know better than to disagree with a Qunari."

"I'll send a detachment with you Fergus. Hopefully the presence of my men will confuse them enough to stall the attack. Erlina," Until now the elf had quietly been watching what was going on; looking slightly concerned but otherwise unsurprised. Obviously, she was used to politics. "If you have those guard uniforms, now would be the time to give them to us." She nodded and disappeared into the adjoining room.

"I ain't putting one on, and neither should he." Kallian piped up, nodding to Theron. "There might be new guards every day, but all of 'em have been human. Howe don't hire knife-ears. We'll go in a different way. I know a window or two that'll get us past the guards."

"Alistair, you go with Aedan, meet us inside and we'll take things from there." Theron gave the order quickly, moving to stand by Kallian. "We do this quickly and quietly, or we'll have a mess on our hands quicker than a hawk can snatch a sparrow."

"I'm coming with you." Solona had finally caught up, breathing hard from running across Denerim. "I promised that I would help you see this through. I intend to make good on that."

Aedan considered that for a split second before quietly nodding. "Alright then. You won't be able to take your staff. The guards only have swords." Solona nodded, too winded to reply.

"I need to go." Fergus said, looking briefly to Eamon. "Moments wasted here could mean the lives of my men. Good luck Aedan. May the Maker keep his eye on you."

* * *

><p>Writing this chapter was like sliding down a hill for me. Once Kallian came with the news I felt like I had to rush through typing. I just got excited by all the excitement, I guess. I've been piecing together the next chapter, and let me forewarn you all; it's going to be absolutely <em>massive.<em> It might even take "A Celebration"'s spot as the longest chapter in my story. We'll see. I hope you're all looking forward to the next chapter as much as I am. It's going to be fun.


	43. The True Face of Treason

She had been hopeful that Ferelden wasn't as bad as the rumors had portrayed it to be. Upon arriving at the Denerim docks, however, she found her hopes were shattered into a million painful shards of disappointment. The city was obviously fairing badly. Between recovering from the Orlais occupation and being hit with a Blight and mass exodus of the population, Denerim was practically a ghost town. What was left were those who were too poor or too stubborn to leave, choosing instead to stick it out where they were and believing in the strength of their fractured government to keep them safe.

But it was these same conditions that were making the city such a depressing eyesore of a pile of rubbish that allowed her to be here, unmolested by the White Divine's sycophantic Templars and their _order_ and _dictates_. After landing she'd been given a short tour of the Alienage, or what they were allowed access to at any rate and had quickly surmised that the true junk in this city festered here with the knife-eared blood bags. It made it all that much easier to implement the plan to continue shipping out any healthy elf that could drag themselves onto a boat and place what little in the way of apprentices and henchmen she had left at her disposal within the walls and integrate them.

Of course the Arl had wanted to see her personally and discuss the matter of the tariffs. After being invited up to the estate, Magister Denailah had gotten down to the business of finding out exactly why her little business venture had failed in the first place. A bottle of wine and a little charm was all it took to pull out the answers from Rendon Howe, who seemed all too eager to share his self-important achievements and gloat over his quick rise of station. If the man weren't such a braggart, Denailah would have been impressed with is skills, but his loose tongue had convinced her that he just happened to be the sharpest knife in a drawer of rusty spoons. Once she learned that the organization killing her hirelings were actually based within the city it had been easy enough to send her people out on the street with eyes and ears open. A few bait and switches later, and she had the location of the den of elves that were causing her so much havoc.

It was one matter finding the blighted wretches, it was an entirely different matter getting rid of them, seeing as they had a track record of proving to be opponents worthy of caution. It was almost blasphemous, elves training themselves and standing up to their betters so rebelliously. She would have devised a plan herself, but there was the matter of having no more coin to barter with bodies that would delve into the den of elves. As little as she cared about the mercenaries that worked for her, they were no longer a limitless commodity as they once had been. This would take tact and cunning if she were to unearth the nest, and there was a certain glory-hungry Arl she knew with men and coin to spare. It didn't take much to have the information conveniently leaked to the Arl, and with a great sense of satisfaction, Denailah could sip her wine and watch the chaos unfold without even having to lift a finger.

Now all that was left was to negotiate the fates of the elves captured in the raid and the beginnings of her recovery would be well within her hands. It was going to be a good day.

•º•.•º•

Her footsteps knew the way to the Denerim estate with hardly a conscious thought. Back alleys disappeared behind her, Kallian's distance-eating lope quickly taking her to her destination. Finally, _finally_ they were going to put a stop to this nonsense. Freeing the Alienage from the long purge wasn't exactly part of the objective, but if there was an opportunity to hamstring the Arl along the way, then she wasn't going to pass it up. Behind her Theron kept up, only ever a few steps behind and running as quietly as any rogue, even loaded to the gills with armor and weapons. By contrast Kallian looked positively unprepared for a castle raid with no armor to her name and standard issue daggers for weapons. That was fine, she knew enough about fighting to keep from getting hit.

There was a crowd in front of the estate and she heard many unkind words being thrown at the guards that kept the front door shut. Looking around, she saw three guards standing at the back edge of the crowd and recognized Aedan, Solona and Alistair under the armor. Good, then they'd all made it into enemy territory. "Let's get around this crowd." She said to Theron, and started working her way through the crowd on the right. The masses were especially thick here and it took a bit of working and more than a few stepped on toes to get through the crowd. Theron had a bit of a harder time following, but eventually they ended up in thinner crowds along the side of the castle. Standing on tiptoe, Kallian saw the last flicker of armor as the other three headed in the opposite direction around the other side of the castle. She heaved a sigh and uttered a quick prayer that they would make it inside the castle with little fuss.

Leaving the crowd behind the two elves moved around the side of the castle, keeping a wary eye out for lookouts. If there were any, then they seemed oblivious to the armed elves walking around the estate grounds. When they turned the first corner however, they found themselves confronted with a pair of guards standing watch outside a doorway with nothing between them for cover. Kallian ducked back behind the corner, lifting her face to the sky and thinking quickly. "Can't go that way."

"Why not?" Theron asked, putting his hands on the hilts of his swords. "There's only two of them. I could dispatch them easily enough."

"No way." Kallian replied, looking around the corner again. "There's a patrol that circles 'round here every hour. If the sentries are missing, whatta you think they're gonna think? They'll raise the alarm an' then all this'll be for nuthin' and we'll be stuck inside the estate with a buncha angry guards. I could get by if I took off all my weapons, but no way they'd let you pass."

He seemed confused, then looked down at himself and realized that city elves didn't wear armor or bear weapons. "I see your point. Where to then?"

She bit her lip, looking up at the sky when a crazy idea occurred to her. "You any good at scaling buildings?"

Theron looked to the stone wall above them, considering it momentarily, then started shifting his weapons so that they would sit on his back without restricting his arms. "I've climbed trees with less handholds. Lets go."

The two elves scaled the estate walls, Kallian reaching the top first and gave Theron a hand up. Once on the sloping wood tiled roof, she led the way toward the back of the estate, looking over the edge to make sure that there were no guards in the small courtyard with a fountain in it, peacefully bubbling water up from the pool into the hands of four Andraste statues. "The window is down there." Kallian pointed to a narrow passage inward from the courtyard that led to a window just large enough to slip through sideways. It was open to admit fresh air into the estate. "Don't break your neck gettin' down." With a challenging grin she dropped over the side, finding her handholds in the top of a window.

It was a tight squeeze, but Kallian dropped into the narrow hallway and moved aside to let Theron do the same, standing near the door that led outside into a long hallway. They appeared to have ended up in a bunkroom for the soldiers, the stone walls hidden mostly behind barrack-style beds. She cracked the door and saw a long hallway that appeared deserted for the moment. Quietly she closed the door again and went back to Theron. "Now we just gotta meet up with the others. I figure there's only one entrance that they coulda come in, so I'll go get them."

"You'll go get them?" Theron arched an eyebrow. "You mean _we'll_ go get them."

Kallian shot him an unimpressed look. "You're not goin' anywhere. You'll blow our cover soon as a guard sees you. Here…" She slipped off her sword belts and took the blades out of their scabbards. Her supply belt came off next, and she handed the equipment to Theron. Looking around, she quickly went to one of the beds and stripped off the linens, folding them in a stack and putting her blades on top. Another stack of folded blankets was added on, hiding the daggers and she picked up the whole load. "Look, shems can't be bothered t'spare me a look if I'm just like one of their pets they got runnin' 'round the place. It's the other elves that'll notice what's up. Just stay here 'an kill anybody that walks through that door. I'll go get the others, 'an we'll go rescue the queenie. Think you can do that?"

He didn't look happy about being left behind, but Theron did nod and unsheathed his swords. "Be careful out there."

She shot him a roguish grin and moved out into the hallway, slumping her shoulders and keeping her eyes on the floor whenever the guards walked by. Nobody paid her attention, though she was more than a little nervous when she went into the mess hall and was confronted with the sight of half a dozen guards sitting about and talking to each other. She kept to the walls, staying as far away from them as was physically possible and went to the back where the kitchen was. The other elves were busy enough that they paid her little mind, though one did look up and seemed surprised to see her. A young lass with brown hair and large blue eyes stole away from her cooking pot to go to Kallian's side, clutching her spoon.

"Kallian? Maker, what are you _doing_ here?" She whispered, looking nervously at the others in the room. "This is the _worst_ place for you to be."

Kallian recognized the elf girl as Teodora, one of the elves that had been rescued from the Tevinters. She was a resident of Highever, taken away like many of the others and had managed to find a job that would pay an elf to help support the cause. "Quiet!" Kallian hissed back, looking at the others as well and pulled her toward the anteroom that led to the servant's exit where they would at least be out of sight. "Look, I can't tell you what's up exactly, but trust me when I say you don't wanna be here if fightin' breaks out, all right? You hear anythin', an' you get out right away. Take the others with you if ya can. But _don't_ whisper so much as a word about seein' me to the others, a'ight?"

Teodora nodded, her eyes gone wide with fear. "Good luck." She scampered back to her pot just in time to miss the door opening. Kallian ducked her head and started for the storage room, but noticed that the armored people who'd come through the door were of the friendly sort. A smile broke over her features when she saw Aedan, Solona and Alistair. "Good ya made it through. I was gettin' worried 'bout you."

Solona fidgeted in her armor, obviously not used to the weight of the chain and plate. "I was getting worried too."

"Where's Theron?" Alistair asked, surmising quickly that the elf was not with Kallian. "Did he find something shiny and get stuck at a locked door?"

Despite being in an enemy camp and surrounded on all sides by unfriendlies, Kallian couldn't help but to smile. "Nah, he's a little ways in the fort keepin' his head down if we're lucky. Let's go before he starts gettin' antsy 'an puts his swords to use on some unsuspectin' guards."

"Hold on a moment." Aedan said, looking at the door that they'd just come through. "Erlina should catch up with us soon."

Kallian was about to ask who he was talking about when the dark-haired Orlesian elf from before came through the door, looking a bit flustered. "Auh, it took me _forever_ to be rid of those pesky guards-"

"Andraste's bloody damn pyre!" Kallian hissed when she saw the woman, dressed in her fine clothes and with her prim gait. "Please, somebody tell me she ain't comin' along."

Erlina frowned at that, her lips pinching together. "Of course I am coming. My lady will not trust anyone who comes to her door unless I am there."

Kallian's following aggravated sigh bordered on nearly just too loud and she tapped her foot impatiently on the flagstone floor. "Any doubts I had 'bout you bein' the queen's lackey just flew out the window. What are you _thinking_ showin' up here like this? Have you _ever_ seen an elf servant that dressed like that? Gaugh!" She took her swords out from their sheet disguise and unceremoniously dumped the linens into Erlina's hands, the dark-haired elf looking more angered by the second at Kallian's outbursts. "Hold on to those 'an whatever you do, _don't_ make eye contact with any of these shems out there, you hear? We'll be lucky if they don't figure you out right away." She mumbled something about Orlesians and their lap dogs along with several more slurs involving Andraste's various body parts and handed her daggers to Solona. "You lot walk in front, like yer leadin' us, 'an we'll stay behind 'an be dutiful little servant elves. Where're we goin'?"

For a second Erlina considered not answering, her pride obviously hurt by Kallian's brash attitude, but she turned to Aedan and refused to look at Kallian. "My lady is in a guest room off the main hall. Andraste guide us."

"Good, then we'll pass right by where Theron's hidin' out 'an we can pick him up. Let's hope there aren't any guards in the main foyer." Kallian's tone was dry, obviously having very little hope that there would be such a thing as an easy way out with this.

Their group moved out into the kitchen and mess hall without incident. A couple patrols of guards coming in to take their meal passed uncomfortably close, but they hardly even looked at the motley crew, engrossed in complaining about the dubious nature of their meals.

When they found Theron, it was obvious that he had kept himself from getting bored by going through all of the soldier's personal belongings in the room, drawers and chests hanging open after a thorough inspection by the Dale. He seemed relieved when they all appeared at the door and he and Alistair exchanged brief greetings before they moved on. At the entrance to the foyer Aedan halted the procession and took a few steps back. "Bad news. Guards ahead."

"Damnit." Kallian hissed from the back, squeezing her head between her palms.

"Hold on, I've an idea." Theron took one of the blankets that Erlina held in her hand, using his sword to cut a tear in the fabric then ripped it in half. "Disguise me as your prisoner. Elves who are caught bearing arms are arrested, yes?"

"Ooh, that is a good idea. We should do this more often." Alistair quipped with a laugh in his voice.

Theron raised an eyebrow at that. "Don't let it go to your head, Alistair."

"No worries there." Taking the ripped sheet, Alistair put it over Theron's head and tied it back so that it looked like a sack, and Theron held his arms behind his back as if he were chained. "You're sure about this?"

"As sure as I can be." Theron replied quietly from behind the sack. "If they catch on, then all of this sneaking will have simply been for naught and we'll have to fight our way out. Sound familiar?"

Alistair silently shook his head, rolling his eyes. "Too familiar."

"Let's get on, then." Aedan said once they had everything together. He took up the head of the procession, Alistair standing at Theron's side holding his forearm as if expecting him to dart away at any second. Solona took up the guard on his other side, still looking incredibly uncomfortable in her armor. Arranged, they stepped out into the foyer and walked with purpose across the way. The guards at the door seemed mildly intrigued by the event, but didn't say anything and quietly watched them go by.

The second that they were out of sight, Erlina dropped her remaining linen and ran ahead of the group to a door set back into the thick walls of the estate. She stood next to the door, which glowed faintly as if there were lyrium built into the thick oak boards. "The grey Warden is here my lady."

From beyond the door an exasperated female voice spoke back. "Thank the Maker! I would greet you properly, but I'm afraid we've had… a setback."

Theron, having just taken the bag off his head came forward. "What sort of setback?"

"My _host…_" Her bitterness was clearly projected in her voice "was not content with leaving me under heavy guard. He's sealed the door by magic."

"Magic." Theron hissed, staring at the door as if it were a darkspawn that had just popped out of the ground.

"Let me see." Solona moved toward the door, Theron standing back to let her run her hands over the wood. She concentrated on the lock and the hinges, her fingers tracing the patterns in the wood grains. "There's nothing I can do." She said after thoroughly inspecting the door. "This seal is very complicated, and very dangerous to try and unravel. Our best bet would be to find the mage who cast it and get them to lift the spell."

"Well, so much for secrecy. Maybe we should have just brought Oghren along after all. Barreled down the door, slicing up everyone in our way." Alistair said in a dry tone, leaning against the wall. "I'm sure Leliana would have written a song about it."

"Well, if Howe didn't know you were here before, he soon will." Anora replied through the door.

"Do you know where the mage might be?" Theron asked, amused at the idea of unleashing Oghren on the castle despite Erlina's earlier warning that a full-blown attack would probably get Anora killed faster than they could save her.

"He will most likely be at Howe's side, if I were to fathom a guess." Came the answering reply from behind the door.

"Good. I wanted to pay a visit to Howe while we were here anyway." Aedan said more to himself than anyone else, his tone tinged with a hint of darkness that bordered on bloodlust.

"We do not have much time." Erlina breathed in a light tone, seeming more flustered than she had before. "We must go before the guards discover us. Teyrn Howe will probably be in his room. They're at the end of the hall, on the left."

Aedan visibly tensed at the term Teyrn, but said nothing and turned about to go down the hall in the direction that the elf had indicated. Solona was quickly behind him, a worried look on her face as she tried and failed to catch his eye.

"You'd best stay here, princess." Kallian said, taking back her sword belts from Theron and buckling them on with practiced ease. "Where we're goin', yer dress is only gonna get dirty." Erlina frowned at that but said nothing as the rest of them walked down the hall, trailing after Aedan.

The room was empty when Aedan walked in, much to his disappointment. Theron started checking out the room, inspecting it in the hopes of finding a key. Kallian unleashed her lock picking tools and helped him look, but they came up with nothing but a stack of papers that Alistair thought looked suspiciously like Grey Warden property.

When sacking the room provided them with nothing useful, Aedan turned toward a set of stairs that adjoined the room that seemed to lead down into the basement. "He's got to be down here somewhere." Aedan grumbled and led them down the stairs, unwary of the solitary guard that was standing near a closed prison cell in the chamber beyond.

The man perked up when he saw the group round the corner, his face falling instantly into annoyance. "Who goes ther-" His words were cut off by an arm reaching out and grabbing the man by his armor, pulling him against the bars and a hand reached out to wrench his neck sideways with a sickening crack. The guard fell to the ground, limp and dead.

Startled, Aedan stood for a moment staring at the dead guard, but Theron and Alistair showed a remarkable lack of fear and moved forward to see who was in the cell.

A man who had obviously been treated rather poorly during his time in captivity stared back at the two, his black hair hanging in dirty clumps around his head, but had a good-natured smile on his face. "I thank you for creating such a distraction, strangers." He said, standing up straight, his Orlesian accent plain to the ear. "I have been waiting days for the opportunity. Do you think you could-" Sudden realization seemed to dawn on him, and his gaze snapped to Alistair with almost unnerving focus. "Alistair? Is that you?"

To the surprise of everyone else, Alistair seemed to recognize the man back, shock registering on his face. "Who..? Wait, I do know you. You were at my Joining? He's one of us." He said to Theron, who was ready to put his blades through the bars and silence the man permanently. The elf relaxed at hearing that and bent to relieve the dead guard of his keys and let their fellow Warden out of the cage. "A Warden from Orlais. Jader, I think. Or was it Montsimmard? I'm afraid I don't remember your name."

The Warden smiled, stepping out of his cell once he'd been released and affected a bow in Alistair's direction. "I'm Riordan, senior Warden of Jader, but born and bred in Highever and glad to be home." His gaze traveled to Aedan and he blinked, a look of recognition passing over his face briefly before he returned his attention back on the Wardens.

"I don't remember seeing you at Ostagar." Theron said, scavenging the dead guard for anything else of use and eyeing Riordan with suspicion.

"That is because I wasn't there." Riordan replied. "I was sent from Orlais when we received no word from King Cailan. The king had invited all the Wardens of Orlais and their support troops to join him, then… nothing."

Theron cursed, standing again. "Loghain. That must be where he's getting this idea that Cailan was betraying Ferelden to the Orlesians."

"That is probably true." Riordan nodded. "We were stopped at the border and denied access to Ferelden when we tried to come to the King's aid."

"Not to interrupt." Aedan cut in before more could be said on the subject. "But have you seen Howe?"

Riordan looked at him for a long moment before replying, gesturing toward the doorway that led into the basement. "I saw him go in the dungeons. He may still be there."

"My thanks." Aedan moved past the group and toward the door without waiting to see if the others would follow, eager to get down there and finally be able to exact his revenge. Solona followed readily, determined to keep a sharp eye on him.

Kallian however hesitated at the top of the stairs, her face gone white and it seemed as if she were stuck in place, unable to move forward. Theron remembered that look from seemingly a lifetime ago when she had paused at the basement entrance to the Highever estate. Ignoring Alistair's brief chatting with Riordan, Theron went over to Kallian and placed a hand on her shoulder, her fear-filled gaze swinging on him. "It's just a basement." He said quietly.

"It's not _a_ basement." She replied in a quiet voice that trembled just enough to confirm his suspicion that she was scared out of her mind. "It's _the_ basement."

Behind him Alistair had just directed Riordan on how to get out of this hellhole and told him to take shelter at Arl Eamon's place before coming over to stand behind Theron, staring at the scene unfolding with no small amount of curiosity. Voices echoed up from the bottom of the stairwell, too quiet to properly make out and Theron had a sinking feeling that the two who had gone on before them were about to wind up in a sticky situation. Leaving her to stand here could have been an option, but sidestepping his problems had never been Theron's style. "This is not going to be the same as last time. You're not alone Kallian."

She took a deep breath and looked back down at the stairway, touching the pommels of her weapons for reassurance then took the plunge and headed down the stairs at a brisk pace. Alistair had a _please do tell_ look on his face that Theron casually shrugged off. "Later." He mumbled before heading down after Kallian, Alistair following along shortly behind.

They arrived at the bottom of the stairs just in time to see Aedan draw his sword and in the same quick movement bury it in the exposed neck of a man in light leather armor standing in front of him. The man gave out a pained cry and fell with a gurgle and a spray of blood, a handful of men who had been watching the two talk jumping to action with any number of odd weapons, ranging from swords, to mauls to whips and they were quickly thrown into the middle of a battle.

Solona stood with her back against the wall, flinging spells from her hands as fast as she could conjure them while Kallian did her best to keep Aedan from being flayed alive as the warrior had apparently forgotten that he had a shield and was mercilessly cutting down anyone that came his way. Alistair quickly moved to the front to cover him, Theron following quickly on his heels and helped to stem the flow of soldiers that were doing their best to try and get at the mage standing behind their group. Once the last man was on the floor they could all breathe easily again.

"You couldn't have _waited?_" Theron asked with no small amount of bitterness in his voice.

"The guards asked for a password." Aedan replied, his voice curiously emotionless.

"Yeah, but I'll bet the password isn't a sword in the throat." Kallian mumbled, cleaning off her daggers on the shirt of the nearest guard, and wiped some blood that had fallen into her eye from a cut on her forehead off. Solona was quick to patch the small wound and keep it from continuing to half blind her.

Aedan only gave the elf a quelling look, holding his shield at an awkward angle, his left arm not quite up to par for battle from being immobilized so long. But if it hurt, he didn't complain. "Let's move on. No doubt anybody else in this death warren will have heard the battle and will be prepared for us."

Theron and Alistair exchanged a long silent look with one another, wary of this change in the normally level-headed Aedan. They were left with little choice but to be pulled along with him as he continued his war path through the dungeon, ferreting out every jailer in every room in an attempt to find Howe, usually resulting in a giant struggle against several men stationed in the rooms with the express job of torturing various individuals. They came across more mutilated bodied than anyone cared to count, each cell growing more and more horrifying as they went.

After a particularly hard battle Solona put a stop to Aedan's reckless charge forward, physically putting her hands on his arms and halted him from continuing on. "Aedan, you have to stop. Let's think about this. You're going to get yourself killed before you ever find Howe if we continue on like this."

From the back of the room a thin voice, apparently alerted by the sound of battle, called out. "Hello?"

Kallian perked up immediately, wiping spattered blood off her face as she went, ducking around behind the torture room they were in to come into a narrow hallways with single-man cells lined up on either side of the walls. At the end of a hallway someone clung to the bars, and she rushed over to see the prisoner.

"Cousin?" Came the question from Soris, locked up and looking ragged behind the bars. He was severely emaciated; his cheeks sunk in and appeared to have only been fed the bare minimum to be kept alive.

"Maker, Soris! Oh holy Andraste, _Soris!_" Kallian reached through the bars, hugging him through the cell and tried hard not to cry. "I never thought… Oh _Maker_, I'm glad to see you're safe."

Theron rounded the corner when he heard the commotion, ready to do battle with swords in hand but instead found Kallian on the verge of tears, something he would never have thought to see from the strong red-head. "Kallian?"

"Theron, did you find a key? We've got to let him out right now." Kallian parted with her cousin briefly, running over to Theron and grabbing the key when he produced it from his pocket and hastily unlocked the door, her hands shaking. "Have you been here this entire time?"

Soris stumbled out of the cell weakly, leaning on Kallian's shoulder for support. "I feel like I've spent half my life down here." He replied, a sigh of relief leaving his lips. "I thought you were dead Kallian. What about Shianni? Is she…?"

The sadness on Kallian's face instantly made Soris worry the worst. "I don't know." She replied, the truth breaking her voice. "I think Vaughn released her after… after they were done with her. To be made an example of."

"They let you go too?" He asked, unsure if he should be hurt or glad that his cousin did not have to bear the months of being locked up.

Kallian shook her head, biting her lip. "No, they kept me, the same as you. I… they sold me into slavery, but I was rescued."

By the expression on Soris' face, it was easy to see that he understood the implications and reached a scrawny arm out to give Kallian a reassuring hug. "I'm so sorry cousin. But you made him pay, right? For Shianni and Nelaros, and the other girls?"

She shook her head again, and Sorri's face fell in disappointment. "Howe got him though. Vaughn is in these dungeons somewhere, locked up the same as you and I were."

That seemed to cheer up Soris somewhat, though there was no escaping the hopeless look in his eyes. "Let's get out of here." He said suddenly, looking at Theron and noting his tattoos with some fright. "I've been down here too long. We should go, back to the Alienage."

"The Alienage is locked." Kallian replied and quickly began the work of slipping off one of her arm bands, revealing the thick scars on her wrist. "But you need to get to safety. Go upstairs, get to the kitchen. Those shems won't notice another elf with everythin' else goin' on. When you get up there, look fer an elf named Teodora, show her this an' tell her yer my cousin. She'll keep you safe an' get you outta here."

Soris nodded and Kallian helped him get to the main hall of the dungeon, ignoring the looks she received from the others in their little war band. With a final hug, she sent her cousin on his way with a prayer that he would make it up to safety. She rubbed her now bare wrist, feeling naked without the marker that covered her scars and looked over her shoulder to see Theron quietly staring at her. "If you've got something to say, say it."

He appeared lost for words, and Aedan came to the rescue, released from Solona's grasp now that the mage had looked over him thoroughly and made sure that he was all right with his injured left arm. "We should move on. The sooner we find Howe, the sooner we can get the queen out of here."

Theron continued to quietly stare at Kallian until Alistair passed, patting him on the shoulder and he followed after everyone else. Feeling like she'd dodged an arrow, Kallian fell in behind them, taking one last look around the dungeon before they stepped out into the hallway.

After the little talk he'd received from Solona, Aedan no longer barreled head-first into the rooms that they came across, instead allowing Theron to check and see what was beyond before they moved on. It was a good thing too, or else they would have run straight into a rather nasty trap that would have had them all roasting alive. Another group of jailers that wanted to gut them all and use their entrails as nooses flooded out of the next room, alerted by the noise. After dispatching them the semblance of careful control had left Aedan, the adrenaline singing in his veins and his rage bubbling dangerously close to the surface.

Turning to the next door, he marched straight over, his shoulders tense. "Come out you bloody coward!" He yelled to no one in particular, as if the challenge would make Howe instantly materialize. Aedan wrenched open the door and was surprised when there were no traps, no hidden doors, no squad of mercenaries prepared to cut off his head the second he ran through, but instead came face to face with Rendon Howe.

"Well, well, Bryce Cousland's little boy, all grown up and still trying to fit into daddy's armor." The Arl-turned-Teyrn sneered, looking down his long nose at Aedan with contempt in his eyes, arms folded casually across his chest. It was only then that Aedan noticed several people were in the room besides Howe and understood that this was probably going to be the last stand. "I thought Loghain made it clear that your pathetic family is gone and forgotten."

"I'll never forget, and I'll make sure you won't either." Aedan hissed, stepping forward and brandishing his sword. "I'll carve the names of my family into your skin before I let you die."

If Howe was intimidated by the display, he didn't show it, the mercenaries behind him stepping forward and ready to jump into the fray.

"I'm not afraid of you, _boy. _Your parents died on their knees." Howe shot back. "I made your mother kiss my feet as she died, and it was the last thing your father saw." A smirk crossed his face, and he slipped his hands behind his back, pacing in front of Aedan. "I don't know how your brother got out of Ostagar, but that will soon be rectified. My soldiers will burn that manor to the ground before allowing him to make another escape. Then he can join his brat, burned on a scrap heap along with his Antivan whore of a wife. And what will be left? You?" He laughed, the sound grating on Aedan's already thin nerves. "A fool husk of a son clinging to the tatters of your family in obscurity. You're the last of nothing, _boy_. This is pointless. You've lost."

"Lie to yourself all you want Howe." Aedan readied his sword, hearing the others catch up behind him, no doubt looking on that the stare-off and waiting for the beginning of the battle. "But I know how this is going to end, and so do you. It's going to be you and me, and you're going to eat those lies on the tip of my sword."

"There it is. Right there! That _damned_ look in the eye that marked every Cousland success that held me back." Howe sneered, looking at the people who had gathered at Aedan's back. "It would appear that you've made something of yourself after all. Your father would be proud." He almost seemed sincere in the compliment, reaching for his weapon as he backed up a step. "I, on the other hand, want you dead more than ever."

Instantaneous chaos ensued, a spell crashing against Aedan's shield, only to be met with return fire as Solona unleashed her own spell and Alistair and Theron rushed from their place on the threshold of the doorway, taking Aedan's place as he leapt forward after the retreating Howe. One of the mercenaries wielding a broad sword tried to intervene, his strike glancing off of Aedan's shield and suddenly Theron was there, jabbing into the side of the warrior with precise strikes that slipped through armor or cut away the thick leather that held the plates on in place. Aedan left the elf to his work, turning just in time to keep from having his legs cut out from under him as Howe launched on his offensive.

In the middle of everything Aedan found himself cut off from the rest of the group, Alistair spearheading their little knot and taking the brunt of the punishment, Theron and Kallian were frantically on the defensive to keep from being overwhelmed by the push of the mercenaries. Outside of this ring Aedan faced down Howe, his blade singing through the air as he squared off against the traitor. "Why did you do it?!" He yelled, consumed by his fury as he beat back Howe, a blade strike ringing against his shield, the head of Howe's axe barely missing his midriff.

Howe twisted nimbly out of reach of a sword strike that would have likely pierced his leathers and ended his life, knocking off two more blade strikes against Aedan, his axe clanging loudly against his shield while the blade caught him in the leg just below the chainmail, drawing a bright line of blood. "He was a traitor to _me_ and his nation!" Howe spat back, dodging sideways under a strike from Aedan and thrust his sword at a chink between the plate armor, his blade turned aside by the thick chainmail but Aedan felt the sting anyway, snapping his shield around and nearly breaking Howe's wrist. "Your family squandered glory that was rightfully mine!"

"There is nothing rightful about what you did!" Aedan hollered back, catching Howe's axe with the hilt of his blade and thrusting his shield forward, crunching the tip of it into Howe's shoulder as he tried to turn away from the blow to lessen the impact. "Murderer!"

Howe was unable to respond for a few moments, a spell rocketing out of the blue and splashing on the wall behind him, the heat of the fireball knocking them both nearly off their feet and singing their hair. The fight with the others was winding down, the mage in the room desperately trying to keep the lone mercenary still left standing alive. Howe took the opportunity to drive his blade forward, catching Aedan in the side of the chest and putting a sizeable dent in his armor. Aedan held the offending blade to his side with his arm and turned, disarming Howe and was met with an axe on his shield, the pain of the blow nearly causing him to drop the shield altogether.

"If you think you can take this from me, that I will allow it," Howe hissed, battering at Aedan's weakened arm with a fury of blows, holding his axe with both hands and denting the shield inwards, "then you are very much mistaken!"

Aedan took a step back, causing Howe to over-swing and lose his balance, tipping forward. The opportunity provided was too good to be missed, and with a cry of rage Aedan's sword shot forward in a powerful thrust, shearing through Howe's leathers around his stomach, the blade nearly piercing him through to the other side. Aedan withdrew his sword, the blood spray that accompanied the motion splattering across his armor with little notice.

Howe looked surprised at the turn of events and fell, bleeding profusely from the deep gouge in his stomach. All the venom left in his body was directed at Aedan who stood over him, sword dripping with blood. "Maker _spit_ on you!" He wheezed, barely able to draw breath for the pain that his wound caused him, clutching at his ruptured stomach as if that could slow the death that was quickly overtaking him. "I deserved… more!"

"You deserved worse." Aedan replied coldly. "Kallian, your knife."

Confused, Kallian stepped forward and handed her smaller purse cutter over to Aedan. With the knife in hand, Aedan sliced open Howe's armor along the rip that he'd already put in it to fell the mortal wound, laying his chest bare. Putting aside his sword, he kneeled over the dying Arl. "I said that I'd carve their names into your skin before you died." He whispered so that the Arl could hear, and Howe did his best to spit at him. "But you're not long for this world. Your life's been ended by _my_ hand. Rather _pointless_, wouldn't you agree?" Without waiting for an answer he jabbed the blade against Howe's chest, drawing blood and carved a bowed line and the Arl gurgled in pain. A second mark joined the first, the two intertwined at their base, reminiscent of the pair of laurel branches that was the crest of the Cousland house. "This will just have to suffice. Now die knowing that all your scheming has come to naught. You've lost."

Aedan stood and picked up his sword, handing Kallian back her dagger and walked away from Howe, who was gasping his last painful breaths. "We should check to see if there are any other prisoners down here that have been wrongfully abducted. This place is a lyrium mine of evidence against Howe and Loghain."

Theron, Alistair, Solona and Kallian all exchanged silent looks with each other before following after Aedan, wary of any guards that might have been left to defend the dungeons. They met no resistance when they opened up a door that led to another block of prison cells, at least one of them occupied with a rather vocal prisoner.

"Who's there? You can't do this to me! I'll have you all flayed! I'm the Arl of Denerim!" The man behind bars looked somewhat worse for wear, his finely made clothes stained with dungeon grime and looking a little on the starved side. Whatever his treatment under Howe's care, he still appeared to have enough vitality to be throwing threats.

"Arl Urien died at Ostagar." Aedan replied nonchalantly, walking toward the bars with a pronounced limp in his walk. "Who are you?"

"I'm Vaughn Kendells," the man replied, as if this should have been incredibly obvious. "Heir to the Arling of Denerim! It's true!"

"It's true."

All eyes snapped back to Kallian who had stopped near the entrance to the cellblock, a horrified look on her face and her skin turned ashen. "Vaughn."

It took a moment for the self-proclaimed Arl to remember, but a look of understanding dawning on his face. "It's you! That little spitfire from the alienage! Listen, knife-ears, we can make a deal, can't we? Let me out of here and I can get you anything you want."

There was silence from everyone until Kallian stepped up, coming toward the bars. "A Landsmeet has been called." She said in a quiet voice, her fists clenched until her knuckles turned white. "The Wardens need your vote against Loghain."

"Is that it?" He seemed a little astonished, and then quickly recovered himself. "I mean, of course! Anything! Just let me out of this blasted cage!"

She nodded and obediently stood aside, letting Theron pass in front of her to unlock the doors, her head bowed. Even so, she did not miss the incredulous look that the Dale shot her, expecting her to have flown into a rage at being called a knife-ear from some pompous shemlen behind bars.

"You won't regret this." He said to Aedan, assuming that he was the Warden, or at least the keeper of the elves present here. "I'll see you in the Landsmee-" His words were abruptly cut off, the tip of a sword appearing through the front of his chest just at the bottom of his ribs. Everyone jumped back, surprised at the sudden spray of blood that jetted from the wound.

Kallian withdrew her blade and Vaughn fell to the ground, gaping and staring wide-eyed at the redheaded elf. "Why?"

"Life's a bitch." She replied in a monotone, laying the edge of her sword against his neck and was content to calmly watch him bleed to death. "Nobody missed you while you were gone. Another casualty of the riots, right? Consider this a delayed display of our undying hatred."

"No, please! All elves want money, right? I can pay!" He tried to move away from her blade, but couldn't get very far without a wave of pain immobilizing him and causing him to cry out.

"I want a better deal than that." Kallian replied, tapping the bottom of his jaw with her sword point and was satisfied to see him flinch in response.

"Anything! Please!"

"I want my wedding day back." She said in a low voice. "And all of this undone."

Vaughn's expression turned from simply frightened to horrified. "I can't change the past! Be reasonable!"

"Too bad. Those are the only terms on which I'm willin' to spare your life." She looked briefly over her shoulder at Alistair and Theron. "Sorry, I'm gonna have to cost you a vote." Before anyone could stop her she rammed the tip of her sword into Vaughn's windpipe until it hit stone, then twisted the blade and ripped it out sideways, splattering herself with blood from the ruptured jugular.

Hefting her sword over her shoulder, she met Aedan's eyes, he being the only one in the group not staring at her like she was crazy. "Looks like we both got our vengeance today."

Aedan nodded silently in response and tipped his head toward the exit. "We should get going. The queen awaits her rescue and I've had quite enough of this dungeon."

"Right, the queen." Kallian chuckled darkly. "I'd almost forgot 'bout her after all the excitement."

Before they left Theron went around the cells and made sure that nobody was left behind, releasing a number of prisoners in various states of mental distress. He kept an eye on Aedan and Kallian to see if anybody else in the dungeon had wronged the two before heading up the party, making their way back up the stairs to make good on their promise to rescue her royal highness.

* * *

><p>Damn, that was a long chapter. But yay! Resolution of several plot points! It was real fun to write this chapter, especially just for the sheer brutality that Aedan could show when finally face to face with Howe. He has been keeping it all neatly tucked away for most of the story, but there's just really no holding back in the end. I did a lot of research to find all of the dialogue options when you find Howe, and their conversation is a bit of a compilation of what I thought was the most juicy details. The window entrance that Kallian uses is the same one that Lelliana used in the DLC "Leliana's Song". After playing through Leliana's Song, I had wondered why going through the secret window wasn't an option, but then again, chances are that some of your characters are in full plate and couldn't scale a wall if the archdemon was snapping at their heels. In the end, it was just a chance to let Kallian do her sneaky rogue things with Theron.<p>

Also, while going through to edit this, I was suddenly struck with a wonder. Why would Howe allow Fergus to get away? Was it an accident that Fergus was already on the road when his men attacked? And then my writer's mind thought of something truly horrible. What if it didn't matter if Fergus/Bryce were caught in the Highever raid? What if it had been planned from the _beginning_ of the Ostagar plan for Cailan to die? What if Loghain had assured Howe that the king would fall to the Darkspawn, and with him the Couslands, who were and have always been the king's biggest supporters? If Loghain knew about The Empress' letters to Cailan and the attempt to get the Orlesian Grey Wardens into Ferelden then that may have solidified his opinion of the boy and confirmed his suspicions that he was the worst thing to happen to Ferelden.

In addition, the Cousland's close alliance with the king might have made them seem more amiable to ally with Cailan to basically allow a second Orlesian invasion, the doubt on the Cousland house inflamed with whatever information Howe might have been feeding Loghain. I don't know if it's true or not, but… I kind of blew my own mind with this conspiracy. The fact that the darkspawn horde that appeared in Ostagar was bigger than anyone had planned was only a stroke of good luck for Loghain when he tried to convince everyone that he didn't purposely leave Cailan to die.

His hesitation to sound the retreat could have been the last dying gasp of the part of him that regretted what he was doing to Maric's son and his daughter's husband. Once that was gone, it was all down hill. He was eaten up by the nefarious whispers of his own betrayal, and he saw enemies in every corner and desperately tried to pull the Bannorn together. Now again, I don't know if that's cannon, but it makes a damn good story, and I think I'm sticking to it. Because lets be honest, Loghain _wasn't_ a bad guy prior to that. He was just desperately trying to keep his country together.


	44. Damsels in Distress

Once they were back up to the main floor and at the Queen's door, they found Erlina standing by with her hands crossed, seeming to be rather calm despite the fact that they were still very trapped in the castle, and now everyone seemed to know that they were under attack. If Howe hadn't sent his men to go face the Highever rebels, then there wasn't a doubt that they would have faced much heavier opposition.

Once they got close enough Anora came out, dressed in the same uniforms that they were and looked just like one of the palace guards.

"Time to go your highness. I think we've overstayed our welcome." Theron said, looking to the hallway behind them where Aedan and Alistair were watching to make sure no other unpleasant surprises were waiting to catch up on them.

"Then let us be off. I must however stress the importance that my identity isn't revealed." Despite probably never having worn armor in her life, Anora seemed to fit right into her armor, carrying herself properly as a queen should. "We should go directly to Arl Eamon's. If Howe's people find me, I'll be killed. And _my_ people will insist on escorting me back to the palace… where my father may also have me killed."

"If you say so." Theron agreed absently, having no patience for shemlen politics. He stalked out into the hallway, the others trailing along behind. "Let's hope that we're not going to meet any more nonsense on the way-" He paused at the entrance to the foyer, confronted now with an entire battalion of archers with their bows sighted on him, guards having flooded into the room while they went to retrieve Anora. "-out."

The woman who had stood at Loghain's side before was back, a stern look on her face as she stepped down from the raised stairs that lead to the great double doors to the outside, standing firmly between them and their escape. "Warden!" Her gaze was locked onto Theron, switching briefly to Alistair when he made his appearance, but otherwise ignored the rest. "In the name of the regent, I am placing you under arrest for the murder of Rendon Howe and his men-at-arms."

Theron visibly bristled, his hands tightening on the pommels of his blades. "You can take your arrest and shove it-"

"Ser Cauthrine, call down your men and stand aside, or be charged with involvement of the heinous crime to kidnap and assassinate the queen." Aedan said, stepping over Theron's words and placing himself in front of the elf. "Beside, the murder of Howe is not the doing of the Wardens. I put that man down, not them. His blood is on my hands."

Cauthrine seemed taken aback by the bold statement, her brow crinkling. "That does not absolve the Wardens of their other crimes. And outrageous lies will not save you from justice. The queen isn't being held prisoner here or anywhere else. Her father would never stand for such a thing."

"There's no reasoning with this shemlen." Theron hissed quietly from behind Aedan. "We're better off fighting our way through."

Aedan was finding himself agreeing, still wound up from confronting Howe in the basement, his better judgment left at the door. "It was a mistake to put a commoner in the seat of a Teyrn." His words instantly made Cauthrine tense and reach for her sword, visibly angered by the statement just as he knew it would. "I can see now that he is a fool, and only uses fools to do his bidding. Believe whatever you want!"

"To Arms!" Cauthrine called and the first volley of archers loosed their arrows, pinging off of Aedan's shield and armor as they volleyed across the room, a few finding chinks in his armor and only were stopped from mortally wounding him by the chainmail underneath. Behind him Theron made a pained sound, one of the arrows finding their mark through his leathers. A mage standing on the dais began pelting them with spells and Alistair was quick to respond, bringing a smite down on the mage's head that debilitated the spell flinger.

Ser Cauthrine led the charge, her huge sword swinging for Aedan's head and he dared not block it, his injured arm already on the point of quitting after all the abuse that it had taken today. Instead he stepped back and swung in when her back was exposed after the mighty swing, only knocking a glancing blow against her chainmail before she nearly carved him in half with a surprisingly quick backhand. Alistair was there to save him from being completely overtaken, bashing Cauthrine sideways and then there were others piling on top of them.

Solona went to quick work in taking out the archers around the sides of the walls, inflicting them with every curse she had at her disposal, a whole wing of archers dropping on the floor as they were hit with a sleeping spell and started writhing when their dreams were invaded with horrendous sights. Kallian followed up on Alistair's heels, guarding him from a soldier that thought himself particularly clever and had started striking from his unshielded side, scoring a few hits before Kallian put a blade through the tendons in the back of his knee and the man collapsed on the floor.

Still, Cauthrine continued to push back Alistair and Aedan, the swings of the great sword threatening to shatter blades and cave in armor with every pass. The others at her side were keeping the two together in easy reach, corralling them so that they had no choice but to face Cauthrine's wrath head-on. Suddenly she seized mid-strike, her face turning red as if in a furious blush and the other two soldiers at her sides put their hands to their head like they had been inflicted with a serious migraine before turning on their immobilized leader, making ineffectual stabs at her like puppets on strings. Aedan whirled his gaze around to see Solona with her hands held out in front of her, her concentration centered on the group of soldiers, her fingers twitching and a red aura surrounding her.

The momentary advantage was interrupted when an older woman in a feathery gown suddenly appeared from the hallway that led to the mess hall, a similar red glow cloaking her figure as she waded to the edge of the battle and cast a spell of her own. Behind the group Solona screamed, falling to her knees and clutched at her arms, holding herself against the infliction that had suddenly gripped her.

Aedan turned away from Cauthrine, his face draining of color. "Solona!"

Alistair moved to put the mage down, the beginnings of a smite forming around him when he was suddenly shut down, collapsing on his knees as if a great weight had been dropped across his shoulders, though the signs of blood magic were not present in this attack.

"Alistair! No!" Theron had just lay the mage on the dais to waste, his head rolling across the floor. With wide eyes he took in the battle scene, grabbing the body of the mage and hid behind it like a shield to avoid a volley of arrows that came singing at him. With Solona down, the spell that had immobilized Cauthrine and her two wingmen was lifted and she returned to take advantage of Aedan's distracted state, very nearly tearing off his arm with a powerful stroke of her blade, vengeance in her eyes.

Kallian saw the lay of the land as well and twisted out of the way as one of Cauthrine's soldiers tried to lay her open. She plunged her dagger into Cauthrine's back, the killing ability of the blade turned aside when the warrior turned, earning little more than a bloody gash though her chainmail for all Kallian's effort. But it was enough. Quicker than Cauthrine could react Kallian had grabbed the warrior's wrist and smashed her foot through the woman's elbow, the bone crunching and popping as it gave way and causing her to scream out in pain. An arrow zoomed across the room and caught Kallian in the shoulder, sticking out of her arm.

With a cry of pain Kallian grabbed Aedan around the arm and dragged him toward the exit. Theron cut down an archer nearest him and went to help, dragging him out the front door.

"No!" Aedan struggled against the both of them, trying desperately to break from their grasps. "We can't leave them behind!"

"We have no choice!" Theron yelled, wrenching Aedan's bad arm on purpose to get the man to listen and another volley of arrows flew at them, one getting Aedan square in the chest and knocking him back with a fist-sized dent in his armor. "That blood mage is too much to handle without Alistair! The battle's lost! We have to save what we can!"

"Aedan, we'll go save Ammy later!" Kallian pleaded desperately, slamming the great oak doors shut to prevent another volley of arrows from making them into pincushions and put all of her weight against the door, bodies shoving from the other side as the soldiers desperately tried to get after them. "But we've gotta go! NOW!"

The crowd that had been petitioning the Arl before dispersed with cries of fear upon seeing the bloodied trio exit the building, fleeing the courtyard in a panic. Aedan gave one last futile tug toward the door, then let himself be turned around by Theron and fled, Kallian ripping out the arrow in her arm as they went with a pained cry and took the lead.

She guided them through the back streets of Denerim, taking every twist and turn she could think of in order to lose whatever pursuit had decided to follow them. They were nearly at the river when she collided with another Denerim soldier, and Kallian was quick to pull a knife on her, scrambling for the advantage after having nearly fallen over.

"Oh! Warden!" From behind the Denerim soldier it was Erlina, her eyes wide with surprise.

"Your highness?" Theron asked, incredulous as Anora righted herself and settled her askew helmet back into place.

"Yes, that is me for what it is worth these days." She dusted her armor off, flicking at the blood that had transferred when Kallian had run into her. "Once the fighting had started, Erlina and I back tracked through the dungeon and came out on the other side of the fight and made our escape from there." She observed the bloodied and beaten group, a frown tugging at her lips. "There is a number missing from your group."

"Thank you for pointing out the obvious!" Theron hissed, glaring at Anora. "We've got to get back to Eamon. If you aren't safe, then their sacrifice isn't worth a damned thing. Come on." He pointed them back in the direction of Arl Eamon's estate, the only safe haven in the whole city and left the others to follow along behind.

Kallian dropped back, walking at Aedan's side. "We'll get her back." She said quietly, knowing that he would be just as distressed as she was, perhaps more. They had known each other longer, after all. "Ammy's strong, she can take care of herself."

Aedan remained silent, keeping his eyes locked resolutely ahead as Theron explained in short clipped tones that Alistair and Solona had been taken captive and that a rescue operation was going to be enacted immediately as soon as they had her safely sequestered away somewhere that Loghain couldn't get his hands on her. Once they got to the estate Theron was quick to navigate his way to Eamon's sitting room, and some amount of relief was felt when Aedan saw Fergus there alongside him, a few superfluous wounds being tended to by the elderly mage Wynne.

"We've got a problem." Theron began with no preamble, stopping just in front of the Arl and all heads went up. "Alistair has been taken."

The statement was met with a collective feeling of shock by all of those in the room, and Fergus rose from his seat, looking to his brother.

"They caught Solona, too." He muttered, his grip tightening on his sword. "But Howe is dead. I saw to it personally."

"Good." Fergus spat, coming over to give his brother a comforting arm on the shoulder. "That bastard got what he deserved. His men attacked the estate, but half way through the battle they were turned back. I assume it was because of you."

"While that may be all well and good, we cannot simply sit back and gloat at our accomplishments. Alistair must be retrieved immediately." Eamon said and Theron readily agreed.

"Cauthrien will have probably taken him to Fort Drakon." Anora spoke up, meeting the eyes of the others in the room, her hands folding together delicately in front of her. "Getting in will be no small feat."

A hiss of displeasure escaped Kallian, balling her fist and punching it into her open palm. "That's an understatement of the age, yer queenliness. Drakon's filled to the gills with guards, and they ain't the stupid hirelings that Howe had stuffed in his basement."

"Then we've got to make a plan and _quick_." Theron replied, rounding on Kallian. "I want everybody in the dining room right away. Wynne, could you have a look at these two-" He gestured toward Aedan and Kallian. "They got the brunt of it when we were making our escape. I'll go round everybody up." Without another word he disappeared out the door, leaving an uncomfortably tense air in his wake.

"Anora, let me get you situated. I fear that you may be here for a while yet." Eamon offered and both the queen and her handmaiden left the room.

Kallian sat heavily in the nearest chair, kicking out her feet and heaving an exasperated sigh. "Well this is a fine kettle of fish. Andraste's bloody sandals, what a mess." She then began inspecting the arm that the arrow had punctured, wiping up the rivulets of blood that had formed down to her wrist with her red wrist marker.

Wynne frowned at the expression and turned to Aedan, giving him a once over before beginning the healing process, her hands aglow with blue magic. "You mentioned that they had taken Solona as well?"

"Yes." Aedan's jaw tightened, staring straight ahead and practically boring a hole in the wall with the intensity of his gaze.

Wynne glanced up from her work to see if he would say more, but the warrior had his mouth clamped shut tight and didn't appear to be in a conversational mood. She was focusing on his side where a blade strike had bruised and nearly fractured his ribs, doing her best to alleviate the pain that he was no doubt ignoring with more important things to think about. "She was a student of mine in the Circle." Wynne said, hoping that some conversation would help to alleviate the tension radiating off of him in waves. "She was always a bright girl. Magic came to her so naturally, like a fish that swims or a bird that flies. There's a bright future for those who excel in the Circle, but she never seemed interested in that sort of thing. I'm not sure if she found what she was looking for outside of the Circle, but the last time that we talked, she seemed happy. I have a feeling that had to do something with the both of you." She smiled at Kallian who exhaled sharply in a 'harrumph' and turned her gaze away, staring at the floor.

After healing the cut on his thigh, Wynne stood and looked Aedan in the face, standing between him and the wall that was currently on the receiving end of all of his ire. "You will get her back." She patted Aedan on the shoulder then turned to Kallian, clucking over the wound in her arm and made quick work of the injury.

Fergus joined Aedan, standing at his side and silently appraising his brother's foul mood until Aedan finally looked at him. "You haven't lost her yet, little brother."

That drew a long frustrated sigh out of Aedan who threaded his fingers through his hair, belatedly realizing that he was still wearing the Denerim guard outfit and hastily took off his gauntlets. "I can't lose her Fergus, I can't. I'll-" He shared a long look with his brother then seemed to shrink, defeated. "How is it that you don't blame me?" He asked, his voice tinged with a sad desperation. "Oriana… Oren… I should have been able to save them-"

"Aedan, don't." Fergus took both of his brother's arms and shook him. "What happened to Oriana and Oren was _not_ your fault. I never blamed you, brother. From the accounts of the survivors, I know you did everything in your power to stop Howe. I know that you helped to secure the front gates, that you tried to save everyone who was still alive. I know that you didn't leave because of cowardice, but because the men and mother made you. You had no _choice_. It's a miracle that you survived at all! Howe got what he deserved. He was a greedy traitorous _bastard_, and I only wish that I had been there to help you kill him." He gave Aedan another shake for good measure and then pulled him into a tight hug. "Whatever came to pass, I know you did what you had to do. You are a Cousland. I cannot hate you for surviving. After all of this death, never _ever_ think that I am not grateful that you are alive."

Aedan squeezed back, a measure of relief sweeping through him to have his guilt out in the open and turned aside so easily by Fergus. The two brothers parted after a moment to find Kallian and Wynne openly staring at them. Fergus only smiled and patted Aedan on the shoulder. "Come, let us go see what can be done to rescue that little fire-starter of yours."

By the time that they got to the meeting the Warden's companions had all been assembled and appeared to be in a full-swing argument.

"I say that we leave him there." A dark haired woman with heavy purple eye shadow around golden eyes said, crossing her arms over her exposed midriff. "'Tis one less headache that we shall have to deal with."

"Morrigan, how could you say such a thing?" A lithe woman with bright red hair and an Orlesian accent shot back quickly, sounding downright offended. "Alistair is _not_ a headache, and we cannot simply leave him there at the hands of Loghain."

"I think we should just charge on in there." A dwarf with a flaming red mustache braided down to his chest burped, his gravely voice cutting thought the chatter. "Swing some axes, break some knee caps…"

"For once, I agree with the disgusting dwarf." The golem who had been so quiet and still earlier spoke up. "We should simply go crush the heads of the guards like pigeons and rescue the witless Warden."

"As amusing as that would be to see, I do not think that you understand what it is that we are up against." Aedan instantly recognized Zevran's accent and tried very hard not to look at the elf, wary of their last disastrous encounter that ultimately ended up with himself and Solona in a closet. "Normally, I would be all for letting our smelly friend Oghren risk his life in a brave charge, but this time I believe that a certain measure of caution is needed."

"I still do not see why we should save the bleating man-child at all." Morrigan drawled, seeming bored by the whole affair.

"Because without him there is only _one_ Warden in all of Ferelden." Theron snapped, obviously aggravated. "It's been hard enough trying to put together this army with only the two of us. I am _not_ hopeful about sealing the deal _by myself_."

Keran had been roused by the commotion and came trotting into the room, nudging Aedan's hand and licking the underside of his palm, watching the goings on with cocked ears. Suddenly Aedan was struck by an idea. "You can take the mabaris." Everyone quit the squabbling to stare at him, obviously either confused or thinking that he'd gone mad. "Mabaris are a very valuable dog, every fort has a kennel full of them. Fort Drakon should be no different. Someone just has to take the mabaris up to the fort under the pretense of a gift and they should let you in without much question." From the corner of the room Falonfen perked up, barking once and wagging his tail and Keran seemed to wuff in agreement.

"Then I'll go pose as a delivery boy." Theron offered and was met with such a forceful chorus of disagreement that he was stunned and left baffled.

"My dear Warden, if this should take a turn for the worst, we cannot have both you _and_ Alistair locked up for Loghain to poke at." Zevran said when everyone else had quieted down.

"Indeed. I think you will have a very difficult time slaying the Archdemon from behind bars." Morrigan quipped, examining her nails as if the conversation didn't particularly matter to her.

"I'll do it." All eyes snapped again to Aedan, some looking skeptical, others downright unimpressed. "I've been around mabaris all my life. I could pose well enough as a dog trainer if I had to impress a guard."

"Convenient as that is, Alistair is one of _my_ people, and I look out for my own." Theron replied, almost to the point of bristling.

"And Solona is one of _my_ people." Aedan snapped back, not much in the mood to negotiate. "We both have a friend behind those bars, and we're wasting time. The second that Loghain hears that he's got a Warden in his dungeon I haven't the slightest doubt that he'll come running to execute Alistair himself."

Theron quietly considered that, looking Aedan up and down. "Zevran." The Antivian assassin cocked his head. "Go with him and make sure that he doesn't get stabbed in the back."

Zevran chuckled at the naked irony. "Of course my dear Warden."

Aedan couldn't think of a person that he wouldn't rather have had to team up with than the assassin, but the serious matter of Alistair's capture seemed to have knocked some of the flirt out of the elf. "Let us get to it then, yes? Wouldn't want to keep Alistair waiting." Zevran smirked and led the way out of the library, probably heading back to his own room.

Aedan turned and left as well with Fergus and Kallian close on his heels. Surprisingly, it was Kallian who spoke up first. "Don't you take no more risks than you need to, you hear?" Her voice was pitched to affect her normal carefree tone, but it was laced with an inescapable sense of worry.

He couldn't help but to give her a small smile, touched by the elf's concern. "I'll be careful. And Keran will be there to back me up if things get messy." The mabari barked in agreement, trotting ahead of them. Aedan looked over his shoulder, expecting Fergus to be giving him a disapproving look, but instead found that his brother seemed more at peace with it than anything.

"You'll get her back." Fergus said quietly to the confused look on Aedan's face. "Whatever it takes. I know you Aedan, as much as you've changed in the past year. You always find a way to make things work out."

He felt calmer with his brother's reassurance and he sped up to get in his room, quickly throwing off the bloodied Denerim armor that he been wearing the whole time in exchange for a set of clothes that were just weathered enough to peg him as one of the lower merchant classes.

Kallian stood in the doorway, looking nervous and jittery. "Listen, Basher, imma go make sure that Sorris got outta that estate. I can't just sit around here an' wait fer you to get back. I'll go crazy worryin' 'bout you an' Ammy. Just… Just be careful, you hear?"

Aedan nodded, slipping his shirt over his head and straightening it as he walked toward the door. "You do what you have to." He replied, clapping Kallian on the shoulder. "I know I don't have to tell you how important family is. We'll return soon, have no doubt."

Nodding silently, Kallian looked like she was trying to convince herself that his words were true, then shook her head once. "Right. I'll see you in a bit. Do the Knifers proud. This is the biggest heist in the history of Denerim, so don't botch it." The two exchanged smiles and then Kallian left, disappearing into the hallway. Aedan left shortly after, dressed as well as he could for the role that he was about to play and went to find Zevran.

* * *

><p>Any of the times that I accidentally got myself killed at the end of the Rescue the Queen sequence I never waited for my companions to come and get me. I always just fought my way out. Something tells me that Alistair might not be as handy at seducing guards or trying his hand a lock picking as my characters apparently were. So, I suppose that we shall see if it's all going to work out in the end. Will Solona and Alistair be in the dungeons, or will it be too late and one or both of them already executed? Will Zevran's constant hounding finally be enough to make Aedan bi-curious? Will Keran and Falonfen be able to bluff their way through Fort Drakon? Find out next chapter!<p>

Also, the spell the mage used to incapacitate Alistair I would imagine is something like a cross between Crushing Prison and Fist of the Maker. It'll leave it up to ya'll to figure out what that means about the identity of this mysteriously feathered woman~

In other news, I'm heading for surgery this Friday. I tore my ACL back in March and I'm getting it repaired (finally). I have a chapter in the hopper for next Monday, so keep a weather eye out for an update and wish me luck!


	45. Lost and Found

"If this plan of yours actually works, I will have to make sure to employ it next time that I plan on storming a Ferelden fortress."

Zevran's calm attitude about the whole affair was doing nothing to help Aedan's deteriorating composure. In fact, Zevran's calm glibness was more irritating than anything else. "You make a habit of storming Ferelden fortresses?"

"No. Well, at least, not the sort filled with angry guards." He chucked at his own innuendo and it took all of Aedan's self restraint not to groan. "It would have been good to know that if I wanted to assassinate one of your countrymen ever again, all I would have to do is bring a dog along." Falonfen whined and shot Zevran a baleful look from his spot at the front of their little group, giving a disappointed huff.

Aedan had only heard snippets of Zevran's involvement with the Wardens and how he came to be a companion. "Why exactly does Theron keep you around?"

"Because I am just that charming, yes?" Zevran winked but Aedan was not amused in the slightest. Realizing that he was intent on being no fun, Zevran sighed dramatically in a defeated sort of way. "At first, I was collateral, should the Crows ever come for the Wardens again. Eventually I convinced him that I was a poor bargaining chip, and he found that I was more useful in a fight than I was doing my best impression of a sack of potatoes. We have been the best of friends ever since."

"Best of friends?" Aedan's tone of disbelief was almost sharp enough to cut with. " I have a hard time believing that Theron is _best of friends_ with much of anyone, honestly. Let alone someone who's tried to kill him."

"Ah, but that is because you do not know him." Zevran smiled in an _I know something you don't know_ sort of way. "But, this conversation will have to pick up later. We've a fortress to infiltrate, yes?"

He was right of course. Fort Drakon loomed before them, a silent overseer of all of Denerim. It could be seen from anywhere in the city if one simply looked up at the sky, and its presence was an intimidating symbol of power of the ancient Magisters, now converted to a high security prison by the Arl of Denerim. Aedan, Zevran and the mabaris walked through the courtyard, earning curious stares from the soldiers patrolling the walls and the yard. They met no resistance however, until a door with two sentries blocked the way forward.

"Let me handle this." Aedan mumbled under his breath, and Zevran fell a step back, walking in a subordinate position behind Aedan.

One of the men straightened up a little, eyeing the two. "State your business." He sounded slightly irritated, but mostly bored. Good. They weren't on the look out for a prison break.

"Mabaris for the kennels." Aedan replied gruffly, just irritated enough to sound impatient.

"You're a mabari trainer?" The second guard asked, eyeing Zevran suspiciously.

Falonfen growled low in his throat, eyeing the guard. "Yes." Aedan replied, as if the man were wounding his honor with his idiotic question. "And these dogs are to go to the kennel master, unless you're wanting a demonstration first. These hounds are war-trained and seven kinds of mean. They can practice on your arse if you want." Keran wagged his tail as if this sounded like a perfect idea to him, then bared his teeth and barked several times, putting the fear of the Maker in the sentry.

"Alright, alright! I'll get the captain!" The man replied while his companion laughed, glad not to be on the receiving end of a mabari's wrath. "Just get them to calm down or something."

"Heel." Aedan gave the command in a quiet clipped tone and both the dogs ceased their barking, looking at him with wagging tails.

The display was enough for the harried sentry and he opened the door behind him, escorting the four inside the fort itself. When they got to an empty hallway, the man stopped briefly. "Wait here, I'll get the Captain." He left them there in the hall, walking further into the Fort.

"I figured that Howe would be incompetent, but this goes beyond all my expectations." Aedan grumbled under his breath, Keran butting his thigh with his head and whining gently.

Zevran cocked his eyebrow at that. "You did not expect this to work?"

For the first time since staring this quest, Aedan smiled. "Not so easily, at any rate."

That got a chuckle out of the Antivian. "I like your style. Let us see how exciting this gets."

The Captain strolled into the hallway shortly after, looking grumpy and slightly put out. "Alright, what's this all about?"

At seeing the new man enter, the two hounds turned and started barking, stopping the man up short where he stood. "Dogs for the kennels." Aedan supplied to the man's startled look, secretly amused that bringing along the two dogs had provided the opportunity to let him see the city's best guards wet themselves with fright.

"Are those _pure bred_ mabaris?" The Captain asked, keeping a respectful distance from the hounds with a small sense of admiration. "Take them on through. But when you get down there, tell Neville I want a word with him. Bloody houndmaster never tells me nothing…" Grumbling the man walked off, trusting the two to lead themselves to the kennels, obviously having better things to do than to oversee an unscheduled shipment of mabari hounds.

Once the Captain was out of earshot, Zevran chuckled. "Seems that you should have had more confidence in this scheme of yours."

Aedan rolled his eyes. "If we get out of this mess, I am petitioning whoever the next fool Arl takes control of this fort to have all of these morons court marshaled. Or fired. Or _something_."

Zevran chuckled again and followed Falonfen, who had his nose to the ground and was sniffing his way through the fort. "If all of the nobility were like you, people like me would have a much tougher job."

"I'm not quite sure that's a bad thing." Aedan replied dryly, following the two mabaris. They were led to a large room with a high ceiling, soldiers milling about seemingly aimlessly, the four corners of the room taken up by large ballista. Aedan stopped, gaping at the massive weapons. "I take it back. They should all be hanged. Who puts ballistae _inside_ a fort? What are they using them for? Agility exercises? 'Today's training exercises will involve us shooting all the new recruits. Those who survive will get a pint at the Noble tonight!'" Aedan shook his head, obviously disgusted. "Andraste's tangled nose hairs, I should have killed Howe slower. This was probably his idea."

Zevran was only half listening as he looked over the string of opposition facing them. In particular he was contemplating the woman who seemed to be posted outside of a large door on the opposite side of the space, which seeing as it was the only door, was probably the way that they needed to go. That would pose a problem. He hadn't given up on searching out other options when he noticed a pair of guards that didn't seem to be guarding much of anything, instead quietly talking to each other, one of them eyeing the woman at the door when he thought the other wasn't looking. A grin crooked up the corner of his lips, knowing a target when he saw one. "I have an idea to get us past that door. Wait here a moment."

Aedan hadn't followed the assassin's train of thought, so watched with some confusion as the elf went up to the two armed men and started a conversation with them. He looked to Keran as if the dog could answer, but he only wagged his tail and panted, watching the goings on with mild amusement. Well, at least someone was enjoying this.

The conversation Zevran was having with the guards quickly dissolved into a shouting match, and before he knew what was going on the two soldiers were in a fistfight, trading punches and an impressive repertoire of curses. The other soldiers started gathering around the fight, cheering and jeering and the woman at the door was drawn away from her post, intent on breaking up the fight. Zevran gestured for Aedan to cross the room and he skirted the ring of soldiers that had gathered around the ring. The four of them were behind the door quickly, not wanting to get caught when the woman who had been guarding it managed to break the two up.

Once they were past the door and inside the fort, things were easier. The soldiers patrolling the halls appeared not to care about the mabaris leading the mismatch pair of Aedan and Zevran, the both of whom were doing their best to look like nothing at all was out of the ordinary. The barracks became the prison, and it was there that they met their first opposition. A soldier patrolling saw them and asked with a suspicions tone what they thought they were doing there, didn't they know the kennel was in the next hall over? His inquiries were quickly put to rest when Falonfen darted forward and took the man's legs right out from under him, Keran following in quick pursuit and put an end to the man's pained cries by ripping out his throat.

Their enemy vanquished, the two hounds split off in opposite directions, Falonfen barking happily with stubby tail wagging toward one of the prison cells while Keran went down the stairs to what appeared to be a torture and inquisition pit. Zevran followed the Warden's dog and Aedan followed his own, heading down into the pit. Above them he heard the quiet voice of Alistair exclaiming over his nudity and _why_ Maker _why_ did it have to be _Zevran_ of all people to find him that way?

Keran ignored that, instead sniffing his way over to the base of a log rack with bodies piled on it. He sat down and stared, whining gently and looking over at Aedan following along behind curiously.

"What is it?" Aedan asked, looking over the corpses of people who had obviously been tortured before being allowed to die, his stomach churning uncomfortably at the sight. He was about to grab Keran's collar and take him out of the pit when a shock of bright orange hair caught his attention. He moved closer, a feeling of dread welling up into his throat until it was hard to breathe. Amongst the corpses was a face he knew, the shock of orange hair belonging to Roderick Gilmore. He was barely recognizable, his flesh discolored with bruises old and new, dark patches of blood and burns making an arrangement of pockmarks all over his body. His arm was laying over the rack at an awkward angle, obviously disjointed or broken. Aedan reached out and gently closed the young man's eyes, his hands trembling as he did so. _This_ is how Rory had met his end? After successfully holding off Howe's men for just long enough that Aedan could make an escape despite his protests, _this_ had been his reward?

At the top of the stairs Alistair had managed to find some pants and a shirt, and he along with Zevran and Falonfen were ready to beat a hasty retreat. "There is nothing you can do for them any longer." Zevran called from the top of the stairs, ignoring the fact that Aedan was shaking. "We must go now before we are found."

Aedan took Rory's arm and laid it over his chest, clamping down on his anger. "Thank you, old friend." He whispered to the corpse, stepping back just far enough to see another familiar face amongst the dead; Mother Mallol, a woman he'd known for the better part of his life, left in only her smalls and just as harshly treated as Rory had been. He turned deliberately from the sight, clenching his fists until his nails drew blood and wished desperately that he had a sword to impale somebody with. He wished that he could have drawn out Howe's death longer. It hadn't been nearly enough for this.

"Where is Solona?" He snapped with undue bitterness at Alistair who took a cautious step backwards, seeing clearly the murder in Aedan's eyes.

For all his cheeky pluck, Alistair did not want to answer Aedan's question. Not. At. All. He knew the answer wasn't one that the young noble was going to want to hear, and after having a lot of bad news already thrown on him, this just very well might have been the straw that broke the horse's back. Zevran arched an eyebrow at him and made gestures that were supposed to encourage him to speak, but it only made Alistair even more nervous. With a loud gulp and another step backward, Alistair prepared to run for his life. "I don't know."

"What?!" His voice bordered on a roar and if Aedan had his swords with him, he would have drawn them. "What do you mean _you don't know?"_

To his credit, Alistair didn't balk from Aedan's uncorked rage, but instead stood his ground. "Look, when that mage-thingy-woman had me down, I couldn't do a whole lot. She was a lot stronger than any other the other mages that we've faced, and I didn't even _really _become a Templar." He waited a handful of seconds for Aedan to get his composure back before continuing. "I don't think she's dead though. I think the scary lady took her."

At hearing that Aedan seemed to deflate and turned away from Alistair, pacing the top stair back and forth. "Maker's bloody bollocks!" He spat, continuing to pace.

"Well, look, we're not going to accomplish anything here." Alistair dared not try and stop Aedan from pacing, still keeping his distance lest he lash out unexpectedly. "Can we get out of the fort now and do the pacing thing later? You know, when there isn't a fort full of enemies waiting to skewer us or anything."

Keran _was_ brave enough to try and stop Aedan from pacing, tugging on the hem of his shirt until he stopped mid-step and glared at the mabari who only gave a quiet growl in return. Heaving a frustrated sigh and desperately wanting to punch something, Aedan stalked away from the stairs. "Let's go."

•º•.•º•

Consciousness was a fleeting thing. It floated to her in waves, and she became aware of snippets of conversation and her surroundings, only to forget when she succumbed again to the spell that bound her.

Darkness. Her fingers tingled. Something was missing. A low buzz in the back of her head….

Solona managed to open her eyes, her vision blurry and warped as if she looked through a jar of water that was constantly in motion. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the dizzy sensation to pass before opening her eyes again and found that she was in a dungeon of some sort. It was silent and dark in the stone cell, the flickering of a torch somewhere far along the hall outside of her prison the only light available. It smelled like damp and mold down here, and she became aware of her hands dangling above her head, accounting for the tingling of her fingers. The weight of her armor was gone too, leaving her in the thin cotton shirt and wool padding. Briefly she wondered who had undressed her and then decided that it didn't particularly matter. Her bigger concern was the wounds that she had accrued despite the armor. Not knowing how to wear it had made her particularly vulnerable in the chaotic scuffle and quite a number of blood stains had soaked through the shirt and her pants.

She tried to reach for her magic and test her manacles for their strength but found that the Fade eluded her. With a rising swell of panic she wondered if her captors had managed to tranquil her, but reassured herself that if she could worry about such things then there was no way she had been cut off from the Fade completely. Perhaps she had been drugged with magebane? Whatever the cause, she could only feel the barest flutter of the Fade against her consciousness, not enough to summon any spells or call on her Spirit to ask for help.

For a few minutes she did nothing but sit against the stone wall, collecting her thoughts. How had she arrived here? All she could remember was falling to the ground in Denerim estate…

The blood mage! For a wild second Solona tried to stand but was hampered by her chains. She collected herself again and tugged on the restraints, the metal pulling at her skin and rubbing it raw and then she knew that there was no way she was getting out without magic and surrendered to that reality. But why had she been spared? Solona thought for sure that the battle in the estate was going to be her last. If no one had slew her right there in the foyer, then there had been no doubt in her mind that she would have been taken by Templars to be executed. But this was an entirely unexpected outcome. Why had she been spared?

Time stretched on and the minutes rolled into each other. Solona continued trying to test her magic, but the magebane was not wearing off as quickly as she would have liked. It was perhaps an hour later when the silence was broken by the creaking of a door and the sound of footsteps. Solona stilled, knowing that there were probably only a handful of reasons that her captors would come down, and she didn't like the thought of any of them. Briefly she considered pretending that she was asleep, but decided against it. Better to face her captors head on then make herself unnecessarily vulnerable. With a great effort she hefted herself to her feet, pulling on the chains and using the wall behind her for support until she could stand on her own, the manacles giving her only a small amount of room to maneuver.

The torch light came closer until a man stood outside her cell, his face hidden behind an iron mask typical of the slavers that they had fought before. Her real captor appeared next, the magister rounding the corner and peered through the bars with mild interest. In the scant light of the torches the woman looked a fair deal older than she had before in the estate during the battle, as if she were only a couple of years away from becoming a corpse. The crow's feet around her eyes were deeply lined and her lips seemed to be turned down in a permanent frown. The woman seemed to be determined to counter her physical flaws with a determined application of heavy makeup. Her eyes were shadowed with a shine of bright silver and her lips almost the same iridescent turquoise of her robe, a vibrant turquoise color accented with a high collar of raven feathers that haloed her head. Perhaps it was a trending style in the Imperium, but to Solona she just looked like an overstuffed bird that Orlesians were known to keep in their walled gardens.

The magister had been looking over her prisoner as well, noting with interest the spark of determination in her eyes, the glint of anger. It came as something of a surprise that the girl wasn't trembling in fear, but then again it was entirely possible that this backwater low-class mage had no idea what she was up against. She was a pretty young thing and would probably fetch a good price if she could be kept healthy on the way back home, a good sign in the way of beginning to pay off her debts. "Tell me your name." Denailah commanded in an imperious tone that brooked no argument, the barest hint of power rolling through her words.

For a brief second Solona considered lying or outright refusing just on principle. The power in the woman's words alone convinced her otherwise though, reasoning that there was no point when she couldn't draw on her magic to defend herself from repercussions. "Solona."

"Have you a family name?" Denailah asked. "Or does your Chantry forbid such things?"

She gritted her teeth and clenched her fists, biting down on the urge to give a sarcastic response in reply. "Amell. Why do you care?"

The magister smiled, leaning toward the bars. "For my records, of course." Her tone indicated that her response should have been obvious in the extreme. "Mages are a much more rare thing to come across in my line of business. It is always a good idea to keep a proper record of these sort of things. Now, Solona, tell me how you came to learn blood magic."

"Why does it matter?" She shot back, not even bothering to deny the fact that she knew some blood magic. The magister was obviously an experienced mage and had guessed right away at what Solona was. Even if the Magister hadn't figured it out with whatever mind powers she might have, then the scars on her palms would have been easy enough to discern if she knew what she was looking for.

Denailah narrowed her eyes, her fingers clenching her left palm as a warning: she had absolutely no qualms about using blood magic and would do so freely against Solona if she had to. "Do not be coy. I've no patience for it."

The desire to lie in rebellion swamped her again, and Solona nearly gave into it. Biting her lip, she tried to reach for her magic again but found only the same amount of success as before. Whatever drug had been used on her was still frustratingly in her system. She took a steadying breath and decided to find out how far she could stretch the truth in order to delay whatever the two had planned for her. "I was taught by a Pride demon. An extremely powerful one."

The magister looked skeptical. "Then you are an abomination?"

Solona made a disapproving noise in the back of her throat. "If I were, I would have simply melted through the bars and eaten you and your cronies for the fun of it. No, I killed my demon with the skills it taught me when the payments started getting annoying." She did her best to load her tone with as much contempt as possible, shooting for arrogance.

The declaration gave Denailah some pause as she considered the statement, then a slow smile curved the corner of her painted red lips. "You _are_ a willful one, aren't you?" She purred, her voice taking on a distinctly musical quality. She held out her hand and the slaver standing next to her handed over a key. The door to her cell swung open on squealing hinges and Denailah took a step inside, her steps flowing and graceful as she walked. "Very pretty. And a decently powerful mage."

Solona was not amused nor enthralled by the woman, instead keeping a hawk's eye on her from her position chained to the wall. Underneath the calm visage however she was just barely reigning in on her panic. Her desperate bids to make contact with the Fade were coming to naught and she had the unfortunate notion that the magister knew it.

Denailah stopped barely a handbreadth away from where Solona stood, a cruel smile on her face. "Your little band has been doing a _fantastic_ job of killing my apprentices. Perhaps you would like a chance at the glory of a magister?" Her fingers trailed along the length of Solona's thigh, leaving an unpleasant tingle against her bare skin where the material had been ripped earlier, teasing a long bloody slash from an arrow. Solona cringed and backed against the wall to escape the magister's touch. Denailah only smiled. "Come now, surely you are far too pretty to be unspoiled." She slammed a palm into Solona's shoulder, dipping her face close so that their lips nearly touched. "What do you say? Give up this dog-lord country and come to the Imperium. I could use a lovely, _loyal_ servant. Some fresh blood, as the old adage goes."

She could barely breathe, choked by the magister's perfume this close. "Maker spit on you."

The coy look on Denailah's face slipped for just a second, then she smiled again and stood back, drawing a small knife from an elaborate pearl sheath at her hip. "Well, I didn't expect you to give in right away. The only remarkable thing about you dirty Fereldans is your tenacity and strange sense of honor. But I think that you'll come to see my side of it." Her blade cut a fine line in her palm, the red glow of blood magic seeping along her form like a lover. "Of course, I had hoped that this would be easy, but you've shown a certain amount of tenacity in resisting my magic. So this is how we're going to play."

With her bleeding palm extended, Denailah stepped forward and cupped Solona's cheek with both hands and kept her from flinching away. "I am going to break you." She whispered, obviously delighted. "Slowly." The magic flooded into her, pouring over her like being thrown in an icy cold river. Solona gasped at the strength of it, her body revolting at the mental invasion. She tried to scream, mustering the tatters of her willpower in a feeble defense against Denailah. "Yes, _fight!"_ She laughed, pressing Solona against the wall, easily deflecting Solona's pitiful attempt. "Fight until you realize that it's useless, hopeless! Until you realize that you can't defeat _me_, that you are _powerless_ and that your only choice is to give in."

Solona wrenched against her bindings, desperately trying to buck Denailah off of her but the magister would not budge. The magic continued to flow into her, searing her and Denailah's voice was in her head, whispering taunts and promises. "NO!" She screamed, struggling against her bindings, wearing her wrists raw. "I will not fall… to _you!_" The manacles dug into her wrists, tearing the skin and fresh blood welled from the ragged wound. With it came an explosion of magic that made the very stones of their cell tremble, the concussive blast almost deafening.

Denailah seemed stunned for a second, her eyes wide with surprise. Solona's magic beat at her, the desperation-tinged magic clawing at her consciousness for purchase. The two women's gazes met, then Denailah looked down at Solona's arms to see her wrists bloodied by her struggling against the manacles and smiled. "This is good. Even without the Fade to assist you, you know what the power of your blood can do. This is very good. I had expected less." She took her bloodied palm off of Solona and stepped back, the look of relief washing over the younger mage's face so profound that she looked on the verge of collapse. The assault ceased immediately on Denailah once the physical contact was broken, and she arched an eyebrow. "Is that all you can muster? Do you have no strength to continue?"

Solona was breathing heavily, the taxing effect of using blood magic without any assistance from Fade magic taking its toll on her. "Get back here and we'll find out." She hissed, leaning against the wall for support.

The magister felt her brow arch higher. "Attack me from there."

"_What?_" Solona got her breath, staring at the magister as if she were crazy. "I'm not doing _anything_ you want."

"I said ATTACK!" Denailah mustered another wave of mental assault and threw it at Solona, bearing down on her and was more than happy to see the uppity mage squirm in torment, the blood on her wrists pooling under the metal and leaking off of her fingers, dripping on the ground. But there was no response, no flare of magic. She reached out and placed her palm on Solona's neck and the response was instantaneous, the furious magic hitting her like a horse at full gallop. She jerked back her hand and stared, rubbing her palm. "Interesting."

With a sweep of her skirts Denailah turned and passed a quick heal spell over the small cut in her palm. "Make sure to slip her more magebane, Rothair." The soldier at the door silently nodded, looking at Solona through the slots in his visor. "As for you…" The magister turned, a smile quirking her iridescent lips. "We will pick this up where we left off later."

The cell door clanged behind her with a squeal of metal on rusty metal and the two left, taking the light with them. Solona stood against the wall, gasping for air and simply stared at the door until the light disappeared all together, leaving her alone in complete darkness and dreading what the days following would hold for her. She could only slip down the wall into a sitting position and pray that Aedan and Kallian found her before the magister won and managed to break her. She was afraid. The first sob was a surprise to her, but she gave in a cried to the stone walls, taking some measure of comfort in feeling sorry for herself.

* * *

><p>One of these days I'm going to do something the easy way, and you lot will riot. But I'm alive, drugged up, and ready to face Christmas. Speaking of which, merry holidays to you all, whatever you celebrate!<p>

We're nearing chapter 50, 200,000 words, and 200 reviews, so I think I'm going to have another special chapter of fun planned here soon to celebrate. I want to thank everyone who's read, reviewed, watched and followed this story, I really do. Your support keeps me honest and wanting to push through writer's block. My special thanks goes out to you guys out there who have been on board since the beginning and weathered through the long hiatus. Thanks for sticking it out guys!

Mushy stuff aside, suggestions for a 200k celebration? We're getting perilously close to the Landsmeet, the final show down, and ultimately the end. Also, special internet cookies to the 200th reviewer!


	46. Condolences

Aedan and Zevran arrived back at Arl Eamon's estate with Alistair in tow. Once out of the Fort, no one had paid them any special attention for which they were all greatful. If anyone had stopped them, it would have been likely that Aedan would have killed first and asked questions later, his mood being so foul.

Upon returning Alistair received a mixed welcome, mostly happy, and drinking in celebration had been mentioned more than once, though very loudly and very insistently from the redheaded dwarf. Aedan left them to their revelry, wanting no part of anything that remotely smacked of happy.

Now that the Warden's companions had been returned, he was eager to get back home and start figuring out how to find Solona. Hearing that she had been captured by the blood mage at the estate only had one up side: she was not being handed over to the Chantry or Templars.

He was trying to convince himself that the woman they had met in Howe's estate was just an exceptionally strong blood mage that he had picked up somewhere as a mercenary. But despite any arguments he made to that effect it was too hard to fool himself into believing such an improbability and quell his own fears. The mage hadn't summoned shades or demons. She had struck Solona down with mind magic, and in all of their dealings with the Denerim Apostates, he had yet to see any other blood mages best Solona. Furthermore, she had put Alistair out of commission with hardly a flick of her fingers, and knowing that Alistair had legitimate Templar training only served to make him more uneasy. If the woman was one of the Imperium slavers that they had been fighting, then Solona could be on a ship in the blink of the eye and whisked out of his reach just as fast.

So wrapped up in his thoughts, Aedan didn't even notice that Keran had left his side, or that the dog had returned with Fergus in tow. Before Aedan could make good on escaping the estate, Fergus clapped a hand on his brother's shoulder, concern in his eyes when Aedan whirled around, obviously surprised.

"I take it from your glum expression that not everything went as planned."

The statement elicited a bitter chuckle from Aedan who now more than ever wanted to be out on the streets. The walls of the estate felt too confining. "Well, the good news is that we saved Maric's bastard." He replied grimly, turning away from Fergus and opening the door into the courtyard. He took a few steps out and stared up at the sky, hands on his hips. "The bad news is that I found Ser Gilmore and Mother Mallol. They were tortured to death and left to rot. They might have been the source of those _testimonies_ for our father's betrayal."

Fergus uttered a quick prayer to the Maker to guide their unfortunate souls to his side. "And Solona?"

What little composure he had gathered cracked. "Gone." Fergus' face fell and he began trying to think of some sort of comforting statement that would suffice when Aedan spoke again. "Alistair said she was taken by a blood mage."

A great gust of a sigh left Fergus. "It's just one problem after another, isn't it?" He asked of no one in particular, then lay a gentle hand on Aedan's shoulder. "But she's not dead, so there _is_ hope."

"How can you stand it?" Aedan asked abruptly, his anger quickly being swamped in a rush of hopelessness. "With _her_ gone."

Fergus needed no clarification, his gaze gone distant as he studied the clouds moving over Denerim, the silence stretching for a long time. "It is a struggle." He admitted finally, tearing his gaze from the silent skies to meet Aedan's gaze. "Not a moment goes by that I don't think of her. But sitting on my arse and feeling sorry for myself wouldn't make her happy." He nodded his head toward the drawn portcullis and began walking, Aedan following closely at his side. "We can only keep moving forward. As I have done since Ostagar, and as you have done since Howe razed our home. We can't go back and change what has been done, so there is only moving ahead. That's what keeps me going."

Silence elapsed between the brothers again as they navigated the Denerim streets, Keran trotting along ahead to stick his nose in interesting corners and returned to lick Aedan's hand occasionally. They had left the market distract when Fergus spoke up. "You love her."

Aedan seemed startled to hear him say that, but once recovered from his shock a half-hearted chuckle escaped him. "Is it that obvious?"

"Blindingly." Fergus replied with a hint of amusement coloring his tone. "I'm sorry for not trusting your judgement." Aedan's quizzical look prompted Fergus to elaborate. "About your mage. I'll admit that she's grown on me, and after all of this…" He gestured vaguely at the air. "I've seen what she means to you, and what you mean to her, even if the both of you are being pigheadedly stubborn about the whole thing. You're lucky to have found each other."

Aedan was sure he was gaping. He wasn't hearing what he was hearing. There was simply no way. "Fergus…?"

"If this Blight has taught me anything, it is that we have to appreciate what we are given. A pretty girl like that who's single _and_ loves you despite you being a short-tempered little blighter isn't an opportunity to be missed, mage or otherwise." Fergus' soft grin turned cheeky. "So when you find that lass again, you ask her to bear your sons and don't take no for an answer!"

Despite his melancholy Aedan couldn't help but to burst out laughing. He could only imagine the shocked look on Solona's face if he were to blurt that out and the deeply satisfied smug look that Kallian would no doubt be wearing if she were anywhere in earshot.

"Ah, that's the sound of my little brother." Fergus grinned, giving Aedan a hearty pat on the back. "Where have you been?"

"At the bottom of a well." Aedan replied with a grin in return. He was more grateful than words could express that Fergus had managed to puncture the veil of gloom that had been suffocating him and affectionately punched him in the arm. "Thank you."

Fergus shrugged. It was no big deal to him. "Now, we've a mage to find. Where do we start looking?"

"Kallian." Aedan replied immediately, hoping the redhead would be easy enough to find. "Her Knifers have been monitoring the city for months, always on the lookout for Tevinters. If Solona is in their hands like I think she is, someone will have noticed."

•º•.•º•

The front of the estate was a mess.

Soldiers bearing the crest of Highever were milling about in front, collecting bodies. The ones that belonged to the now-deceased Arl Howe looked more like pincushions than people, arrows sticking out of every available slot in their armor. They were being piled on a wagon that was already full of armored bodies to be carted to the Chantry and given final rites. The few dead of the Highever lot were being laid out carefully in a separate wagon, though the defenders had suffered far less casualties. The front gate had been bashed in, evidence of a wooden ram left in the middle of the street by the fleeing opposition.

The grim faces of the soldiers didn't even turn up to acknowledge Kallian, entrenched as they were in their own matters. To her surprise, she saw a handful of her elves among the soldiers, picking up bodies and salvaging arrows where they could. The elves greeted her with much relief and she shook a number of hands and patted many backs before she could enter the estate itself. When she stepped through the door, it was to find Sticker and his brother Elai waiting for her in the foyer, talking together quietly but stopped the second that they noticed her. Never a good sign.

"Kallian, there's an elf here. Claims to be your cousin…" Sticker trailed off, looking her over and was obviously surprised to see her covered in blood splatters. Even more surprising was seeing one of her wrist markers gone, exposing the scars on her wrists. "So you really did it? Stormed the castle? Again?"

A grin was his only answer. "Where's Soris?"

"Rebecca got a hold of him." Sticker replied with a small smile. "He's in one of the guest rooms being coddled. How long was he in the dungeons?"

"Near a year." She replied sadly and started walking, Sticker and Elai falling in behind her as she went. "He came to rescue me after Vaughn took us to the estate. He's a brave fool who didn't deserve what he got. He's a hero."

"About that…" Elai's voice was squeaky with nerves, his fingers twisting together. Sticker gave him an encouraging nudge and the young boy took a steadying breath. "There's uhm… well, _rumors_ I guess and uh… well, you see…"

"The people of the Alienage apparently blame you and your cousins for the Purge." Sticker finished for his brother, the younger boy clearly afraid to deliver the message himself.

That brought Kallian up short, and Elai very nearly ran straight into her back. She whirled on the two, disbelief and anger on her face. "They blame _me?"_ She hissed, her anger starting to win out over her disbelief. "It wasn't even Vaughn that ordered the damn Purge! It was bloody Howe!"

"When the soldiers came…" Elai piped up quietly, his gaze on the floor. "They said that we were being punished because of what happened to the Arl's estate. To teach us our place."

If Kallian had something in her hand, she would have thrown it right then. Instead, she quietly seethed for a moment, remembering the terrified look on Vaughn's face as he died and that went a long way to soothing her bruised pride. She calmed herself with a deep breath and relaxed the tenseness from her shoulders with a force of willpower. "I'll settle that if we ever get back in the Alienage. How did we fare during the raid just now?"

"Fine." Sticker replied with a self-satisfied grin. "The walls around the estate apparently aren't for show. I had anyone with a bow on the wall raining down arrows on their bloody heads. By the time that they managed to break down the gate, the Highever boys were more than ready to handle it. They turned tail and ran after the beating they got inside the gate."

Kallian sniffed in approval and pat Sticker on his newly recovered shoulder, his collarbone finally healed after their little escapade in the warehouse once Solona had seen to him. "Good man. Now, I'm gonna go save my cousin from the housekeeper." The three parted ways and Kallian headed immediately to the guest rooms, eager to see Sorris. He wasn't hard to find. She had just entered the guest room wing of the estate when Rebecca came out of one of the rooms, a bowl in her hands.

"Now you get some rest." The woman admonished, wagging her finger at the occupant of the room. "You'll never get better if you don't sleep." Rebecca closed the door behind her and looked up to see Kallian, her face softening. "Hello dear. I'm glad to see you back safely. The boys, are they-?"

"Safe." Kallian replied with a tight smile. She couldn't imagine referring to Aedan and his bear of a brother Fergus as 'boys' herself, but supposed that the housekeeper had known the two Couslands since they were swaddled. "They're storming Fort Drakon right now though, I believe."

Rebecca's face went white as a sheet. "Maker's mercy!" She hissed and looked like she might faint. Kallian mentally condemned herself to the Void for finding it amusing that the housekeeper was so easily flustered. "I'm going to go… pray…" She left Kallian to herself, walking on wobbly knees back toward the main foyer.

Shaking her head, Kallian opened the door that Rebecca had just closed and poked her head in to see Soris hidden under a mountain of blankets and pillows. She smiled when he perked up at seeing her, lifting his face from his cushy feathery trappings. "I see yer livin' it up in here." She said and let herself in the room.

"Not by choice, I assure you." Soris replied with a grin and managed to sit himself up in bed. "You've made some strange friends, cousin."

"Tch! You can say that again!" Kallian laughed with a snort, moving over to Soris' side and sitting on the edge of the bed. "But seriously, I'm glad yer alright." She mumbled more quietly, reaching out and taking his hand, gripping it in her own. "I'm sorry that I couldn't come an' get you sooner, Soris."

"It's alright, Kallian." His smile was small, but honest. "I'm grateful that you got me out at all. Shianni will be glad to see us both."

Kallian tried to ignore the way that her heart squeezed painfully at the mention of her other cousin, wondering if she was going to be one of the missing that they never had a chance to save. "Yeah. She'll probably have us all go drink ourselves stupid. Maker knows I need a break."

Soris chuckled at that, grinning and knowing it was true. "I never thought I'd miss Shianni's swill, but I do. I just hope that…" His gaze dropped to the covers, his silence stretching for a moment. "I hope that it's not all gone when we get back."

"It'll all be there." Kallian replied, trying to convince herself that she wasn't blatantly lying. "The Alienage has faced worse. We'll go back, an' everyone'll be pissed, and it'll be like old times."

His answering smile was a ghost of what it was meant to be, and Kallian couldn't blame him for trying to put on a brave face. "I hope you're right."

"I will be, don't worry. But fer now you should concentrate on sleepin'. Rebecca will have my head if I keep you from gettin' better." Kallian stood and gave Soris' hand one final squeeze before letting go. "I'll see you in the mornin'. If you need anythin', just call." She turned and headed for the door, intent on finding some busy work to keep her mind off of how the adventure through Fort Drakon might be going.

"Kallian."

Soris' voice stopped her up short and she paused with her hand on the door frame, looking at him over her shoulder. Soris held up the red marker that she'd given him earlier. "This is yours."

"No, keep it." She replied with a wave of her hand. "You're part of the Knifers now. We look out for our own."

He nodded and tucked the scrap of cloth back into his pocket from whence it came and settled back on the bed. "Thank you Kallian, for always being the strong one."

"Don't mention it." She had to try hard to keep the bitterness out of her smile and closed the door behind her gently went she walked out into the hall, leaning against the wall behind her for support. That was her all right, always the one leading the charge and shouldering the majority of the burdens. She was the strong one. But in moments like these, sometimes she just wanted to not be the one that had to hold it together.

She indulged in a moment of self-pity, then straightened and walked purposefully down the hall and toward the main foyer, intent on getting a full report of the attack and doing a headcount to assess the casualties.

When Aedan and Fergus arrived some time later, Kallian was not eager to hear what they had to say. Neither of them looked particularly jovial, and Solona was not tagging along behind them. The news that she had been taken by the woman back at the estate who was possibly a Tevinter blood mage made her instantly go into panic mode and she spent the next half hour organizing a man-hunt utilizing the entire force of elves she had at her disposal capable of the task. Once she had dished out patrol orders and was preparing to go on her own route, Aedan pulled her aside, looking just as worried as she was.

"What do you want me to do?" He asked, for it had not escaped his notice that she had not given him a particular task to do.

"Keep your ear to the ground." Kallian replied in short clipped tones, shrugging into her sword harness and inspecting her blades for damage before sheathing them with practiced motions. "You an' your brother can listen in on circles of conversation that we can't. The last cell of slavers we wiped out was workin' fer Howe. If this one's got ties to nobility too, then you're the only guy I've got that can pry out that information."

Aedan barely restrained his urge to argue. He wanted to be out on the streets searching high and low as well. Kallian apparently saw this and paused in her preparations to look him in the eye. "Look, if I hear _anythin_' about where they've got her, you're the first guy I'm tellin', alright? Ammy's one of the Knifers, and we don't let slavers take our people, not without a fight. We'll find her, and we'll gut that witch an' all her cronies. Until then, you hang tight an' do yer job."

With a sigh, Aedan nodded his head, seeing the sense in her words even if he didn't like it one bit. "You keep safe, Kallian."

"You too." She punched him gently in the shoulder then was off, heading out the main door with the rest of her people to begin the hunt.

* * *

><p>H'okay guys, if you're reading this, chances are that I'm on a car trip heading back home for the new years. Happy 2013 to everyone, and I'm glad that the world didn't end.<p>

So, going to deviate a little from the Origin's plot here. It doesn't make sense to me that the Alienage would immediately just crack open once all the Howe business is settled. I'd figure that in the absence of something new to do, the Denerim soldiers would keep doing their assigned task until given different orders. So, the Alienage stays closed for a little while, but not very long, I assure you.


	47. The Contents of a King

At the crack of dawn the next morning, the Highever estate was paid an unexpected visitor. Aedan woke to a nervous knocking on his door and when he opened it, it was to see the housekeeper looking unprepared for such excitement so early in the morning, her normally severe bun replaced with a quick braid over her shoulder. Behind her Theron stood casually in the hall, already in his full leather armor and armed to the teeth as if he were prepared to go plunging into darkspawn at any second. "Young master." Rebecca nodded respectfully. "The Warden said that he wanted to talk, and that it was urgent."

"Thank you, Rebecca." Aedan dismissed her and she gratefully disappeared down the stairs. Turning to his guest, Aedan raised an enquiring eyebrow. "I'll admit I wasn't expecting you. What brings you to my door?" He felt incredibly under dressed with Theron standing in full battle dress, given that he'd only been awake for perhaps five minuets before Rebecca had knocked. He'd thrown on a loose cotton shirt and some pants, but was completely unprepared to entertain any guests as he was.

Theron, not one for customs, didn't seem to care. "A number of things, actually." He replied in his particular drawl that Aedan was coming to associate with the Dale. "First, I wanted to thank you for bringing back Alistair. Human or not, he's a Warden and my friend. Words can not express how much I appreciate him being among us once more."

"No thanks are necessary." Aedan replied with a small shake of his head, leaning his shoulder against the doorway. "Allies look out for each other."

"Yes, that was the other thing that I wished to speak to you about." Theron replied, his face gone grim. "It would probably be best if we didn't discuss this in the hallway."

Feeling equal parts curious and wary, Aedan straightened himself. "To the library, then." Theron followed him, not at all commenting about the human's lack of footwear if he noticed that Aedan wasn't wearing shoes. When they were in the library, both of them sat, Theron's with his swords laying across his lap and Keran woke to come settle asleep again on Aedan's feet. "So, what would you like to talk about?"

"The Queen." Theron replied shortly, sitting tense as a strung bow. "And you. Yesterday in the estate… What was that about? You and Kallian both acted… strangely. I have yet to see your elf companion to press her for information, but I need to know if the two of you are dangerous to my people. How many enemies do you have in this _Landsmeet_ of yours who you may be prone to lopping the head off of?"

A bitter smile twisted up the corner of Aedan's lips. "That was the last one so far." He replied and sat back in his chair, folding his hands on the table. "I don't know what you know of Rendon Howe from our previous conversations, but that man murdered my entire family and because of that was elevated far beyond his station. Killing him can only help your cause against Loghain, of that I can assure you. With him dead, my brother can reclaim his title of Teyrn of Highever, and we can support you in the Landsmeet. As for Kallian…" He paused, wondering how much of the girl's story he should share. "I do not know the whole story between her and Urien's son. I _do _know that she was taken prisoner and from there sold into slavery. From what I've heard the others say, she was abducted by him on a celebration day of some sort along with several other women from the Alienage. I had guessed that she had been beaten and exploited by the soldiers that took her captive, possibly even the Arl's son as well. From her reaction in the dungeon, I assume that my guess was correct. She's never said as much to me, but then again, Kallian never says much about herself to anyone. Solona may be one of the few that she's ever confided in, and she's determined to keep Kallian's secret." He deliberately didn't use the word _was_, stubbornly clinging to the hope that Solona was alive and that they would find her again.

Theron shifted, his eyes flicking to the tabletop almost guiltily. "I… had guessed something similar from her conversation with her cousin in the basement dungeons." Theron leaned forward with his elbows on the table and laced his fingers together, a pensive expression on his face. "Her actions make more sense in that light… But back to you and your brother. Tell me honestly: Am I putting my faith in the wrong men? Trusting King Cailan had our order nearly wiped out. We _can't_ afford another mistake like that."

A wiry grin crossed Aedan's face. For not knowing a lot about politics, the elf certainly could spot a bad deal when one was given to him. "I don't know." He replied honestly, and Theron lifted his eyebrows curiously. "All I do know is that Loghain hates the Wardens, and that for whatever reason, he condoned and rewarded Howe for the slaughter of innocents. If for no other reason that would be enough for me to see him fall. But all of this fighting since Ostagar, his own daughter taken captive by Howe, what's happened here in Denerim, Gwaren, Highever and Amaranthine… He was a hero once, but now he's his own worst enemy. If the Wardens stand to rally all of Ferelden to defeat the Blight, that means that Loghain needs to step down, and that's a cause that both my brother and I can support whole heartedly. A Cousland does what he must, and with the country fallen to petty warring, what we must do find a way to bring her back together again."

Theron was quiet for a good long while, contemplating what Aedan had said before finally nodding. "I was never a fan of Loghain anyway. But that brings us to my second point. Your shemlen queen sent for me this morning. I don't know why she wanted to talk to _me_, of all people, but she asked for the Warden's support to restore her throne. I told her we would."

Aedan tensed, his hands rolling into fists subconsciously. "That's probably why she wanted to talk to _you._" He grumbled and rubbed the bridge of his nose as if to stave off a headache.

"I don't understand." Theron cocked his head, sounding a touch defensive. "She is already your queen. Why not keep her there?"

"Because she has been anything _but_ the sort of queen that Ferelden needs since Cailan died." Aedan replied, tousling his hair as if that could help his mind puzzle out what it all meant. "I'm going to go wake up Fergus. He needs to be in on this part of the discussion. I'd tell you to go get Alistair as well, but he is not going to want to hear what we have to say."

Theron's eyebrow nearly arched into his hairline at that. "Why not? He knows more of shemlen politics than I do."

"Because from everything I know about Alistair, he _doesn't_ want to be king." Aedan replied and stood, heading for the door. "I'll be back in a moment." He left the room without waiting for Theron to muster an argument and was at his brother's door in less than a moment, rapping on the thick door. Fergus greeted him with a groggy look, obviously already having been up for a little while if the state of his dress were anything to go by. Perhaps he hadn't slept at all, and Aedan wouldn't have been surprised. The two had been up until the wee hours of the morning writing missives to the Banns of Highever and Amaranthine calling for their support once more as Fergus planned on claiming their father's title of Teyrn. Aedan had been too worried to sleep, but his exhaustion from first the battle at the Denerim Estate then the mission to Fort Drakon had hit him like a charging mabari and he'd fallen asleep with his forehead on wet ink in the middle of writing a letter to Bann Esmerelle.

Fergus was surprised to see him up so early, and Aedan briefed his brother quickly on Theron and why he was here. Fergus immediately seemed to wake up a little more and returned to the library with Aedan readily.

"So, I hear that the Wardens intend to support Queen Anora's claim to the throne." Fergus stated as he walked into the room, pulling up a chair for himself and settling down next to Aedan's seat, looking Theron over with a speculative eye. "I would be prepared to support your decision, but I'd like to know your reasoning first."

Theron visibly went on the defensive, sitting back in his chair with his shoulders tense. "It's as I told your brother. She's already your queen. Just keep her there."

"Eamon has talked to you about making Alistair the king, hasn't he?" Fergus asked with a neutral tone.

"Of course." Theron replied stiffly. "Alistair won't entertain the idea. He's never wanted to be king, and likes being a Warden just fine. I'm not about to tell him to do something that he abhors when there's no reason for it."

Fergus nodded, folding his fingers together and silently thought it over for a few moments. "Tell me what Anora offered you, if you would please."

Theron eyed him suspiciously, feeling more and more like he was being lured into a trap, but eventually decided that there was no more delaying it. He had come here for advice after all, even if it wasn't what he wanted to hear. "For the most part, she told me what I already knew. That Alistair was a good enough bid for the throne, but he obviously doesn't want it. He could lead the charge, I'm sure, but I have a hard time imagining him dealing with anything that follows. Eamon claims the opposite; a few months of training would get him by. But at the end of the day, he is a Grey Warden. We're not supposed to get involved with political affairs." He wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Though ever since Ostagar, that's all we've _been_ doing. He wouldn't be the first King I've put on a throne."

Fergus and Aedan exchanged surprised looks, so Theron felt the need to elaborate. "The dwarves were in a sorry state when we got to them. Their… _dishers…?_ were having it out with each other in the streets. Wouldn't help until they got a king, so by the Creators I got them their blasted king." If he had a stout drink, he would have swigged it. Even the mention of Orzammar made him sour, let alone remembering their political frenzy and his forced part in it all. "So please, by all means, convince _me_ that getting involved in this is what the Grey Wardens really need."

"The first time we met, you said that you needed help getting rid of Loghain." Aedan said in a surprisingly gentle tone. "Whatever Anora has said, I don't think that she is the person to help you with that. The Queen is her father's daughter for certain, so I can't imagine supporting the Wardens if it also meant dispossessing Loghain."

Fergus nodded gravely in agreement. "Now that Howe is out of the picture, I'm going to be campaigning the other nobles for support to get my title back. Let me take Alistair along. If he's as hopeless as you seem to think, then I'll abandon the notion of putting him forward for the throne and support your decision to put Anora there instead. Does this sound agreeable to you?"

Theron considered that for a moment, looking between the two brothers then finally relented with a sigh. "Aye. You've got Alistair for the day. When I head back to Eamon's, I'll send him your way."

"Thank you." Fergus gave Theron a reassuring smile, then stood. "Now if you'll excuse me, I am in desperate need of a wash. Aedan, you'll continue the hunt for Solona today?"

Aedan nodded his head in confirmation. "Kallian said that she'd talk to me this afternoon about anything they found or didn't find."

"Is she canvassing the city with her… Knifers?" Theron asked, hesitating over the name of their group.

Aedan seemed surprised by the question, but nodded. "She is. They've been taking it in shifts since yesterday, keeping an eye on the docks where the slavers have been known to moor and patrol the back streets of the city often."

"If Alistair is going to be out garnering support from the shemlen nobility," Theron stood with a stretch, replacing his weapons on his belt. "Then I think I'd like to know this city better. I'll come back with Alistair."

"Then we will see you back in a little while." Fergus replied courteously, giving the Warden a small not then excused himself from the room. Theron showed himself out of the manor, leaving Aedan in the library to pick up where he'd left off the night before, composing letters to those that would still support the Couslands.

•º•.•º•

Fergus tried his best not to remark on Alistair's nervous habit of making witty one-liners whenever the opportunity presented itself, fearing that would send the young man into a tangent about cheese or some such. They were in the Gnawed Noble and Fergus had decided that Alistair needed some liquid courage before they should even bother attempting to woo the nobles. Fergus could have done fine with this task on his own, but this was about Alistair, not him. Once their drinks had arrived Fergus waited until Alistair had swallowed his first mouthful before opening up the conversation. "So, what are your thoughts on becoming king?"

He was glad that he'd waited, because Alistair's resulting sputter would have certainly ended up in a face full of ale. "K-king? Noooooo, no no no. I'm a Warden, thanks, and I'd like to stay that way."

Fergus smiled patiently, mentally sighing. This was going to be quite the battle. "Alistair, I know that being king was never your intention. But these are desperate times, and I'm afraid that your lineage has finally caught up with you."

"Look, I know Eamon probably put you up to this." Alistair was in full suspicion mode now, glaring at Fergus. "But Wardens can't be kings. It's in the rulebook. Or it would be if you know, I had one. But that's beside the point! Anora can keep her throne. I certainly don't want it. I've never wanted it. Being… who I am had never been important to me."

Another sigh and Fergus took a drink. "Alistair, before you dig your heels in on this I want to point out something for you. First, the Landsmeet will likely waffle about keeping Anora as Queen if a blooded heir is put forward." Alistair opened his mouth to argue, but Fergus lifted his hand for silence. "The people love her, and I've no doubt that she is capable. However, after Cailan died and Loghain became Regent, Anora lost her voice. She was easily muzzled by Loghain, and she failed to bring the Bannorn together after the king's death. She may have a shrewd mind and a talent for economy, and that would be enough if this were Orlais or the Marches. But this is Ferelden. Without a strong personality on the throne, the Banns will squabble amongst themselves indefinitely, and we'll go back to the days from before King Calenhad."

"Yeah, well, that's great and all, but I'm not exactly leader material." Alistair replied, playing with his mug absently. "Just ask Theron. He makes all the decisions. I just follow. I'm a _follower_."

Fergus tried and succeeded to not sigh but did indulge himself with another drink. "Well, consider this. We'll call it an incentive for deciding that you want to take the crown. You are a threat to Anora." He paused and let Alistair look shocked before continuing. "Bastard or not, you carry the blood of the Therin line, and some of the nobility would have you on the throne for that alone. If you refuse to become king, Anora very well may have you executed to prevent the Banns from challenging her with you as the figurehead."

Alistair's hand went to his neck as if he could feel the blade there already. "But I _really_ don't want to be king. I'm not a threat to Anora, really."

"Just think on it for a few moments." Fergus replied and took another draught, disappointed to find his mug already half empty. "So you don't want the throne. Great. But lets say you have children, theoretically. _They_ are also a threat to Anora. If she can eliminate you _now,_ it would save her a _lot_ of trouble later."

Alistair mulled that over, taking another drink and looking almost comically put out by the thought. "I get it."

Fergus was silently proud that he didn't crow with joy. "Look, Alistair, these might sound like hollow words now, but they are true. Being a leader of men isn't about if you know your soupspoon from your dessertspoon. It's about how you treat those who are beholden to you." Fegus had to clamp down on a wave of sadness that suddenly hit him, remembering those exact words coming from his deceased father in a similar speech. "Compassion is a key quality to want in your monarch, which seems to be a trait that you have an abundance of. Furthermore, it's not a trait that is simply _taught_. How to address the Banns at a Landsmeet is an etiquette lesson, something that can be learned. If you decided to become king, I would gladly volunteer to teach you. Ferelden cannot survive this Blight divided as it is, and you happen to be the only legitimate candidate that knows a lick about fighting Darkspawn. If you've survived the Deep Roads with only a handful of people in your group as I've been told, then I imagine that you and your companions are going to be invaluable in the upcoming fight."

Alistair considered that, sipping at his ale for a handful of silent moments. "I'm not agreeing to anything, but what sort of stuff would I need to know? If, you know, I suddenly spontaneously decided that being king wasn't the worst decision I could make in my life."

Despite his flippant tone, Fergus wanted to sign in relief. He was at least a step in the door. Instead he smiled and finished his ale. "See that man over there?" He nodded his chin at a miserable looking noble in the corner nursing an ale like it was his first born child. "That's Arl Wulff of West Hills. His lands have been hit hard by the Horde. He has his whole force here in Denerim because he has nowhere else to keep them. We're going to convince him that Loghain is not a very good Regent and that he should support the Warden's efforts to quell the Blight."

"Sure, make it sound easy." Alistair took another gulp of his liquid courage, his sarcasm back in full swing.

Fergus was starting to like Alistair's sense of humor and smiled as he stood. "Come on, I'll break the ice. Just don't' show your fear. Old Wulff is like a mabari; he can smell that sort of thing."

Alistair shot him a _you are SO not helping_ look and stood, turning toward the lone Bann.

Wulff paid them no mind until they entered his tolerance bubble, and a fierce glower replaced the gloomy look he had been sporting earlier. "Can't you leave an old man to his drinking?" He grumbled. "Go away! I haven't got any coin for you rot-gut beggars."

Fergus sat himself down across from Wulff despite the rough greeting. "I assure you Ser, we aren't here for begging."

Wulff blinked several times when he saw Fergus, a look of disbelief on his face. "Well, I'll be damned. Bryce's boy. We all thought you were dead."

"The Maker hasn't consigned me to the pyre yet." Fergus replied grimly, then gestured to Alistair. "This is Alistair Therin, of the Grey Wardens."

"Therin you say?" Wulff blinked up at Alistair, scrutinizing him closely. With a heavy sigh he leaned back against the wall. "Spitting ghost of gold 'ole Maric, he is. Maker rest his soul. Now that I've got a couple of fellas who should be dead standing here, what do you want?"

Fergus shot a pointed look at Alistair and it took him a second to realize that was his cue. "Oh, uh, well, you see, I was going to ask for some help. In the Landsmee-"

"Help?" Wulff practically roared, slamming his tankard against the table. "Help, like the _help_ I got when those damned sodding darkspawn came up out of the ground and attacked my Arling? Like the help I got when my sons fell to those blighters? Go ask someone else! My family is spent of help."

A look so profoundly sad possessed Alistair's face that Fergus was sure somewhere someone had kicked his puppy. "I'm sorry for your loss." And he sounded sorry too, his tone honest enough that Wulff looked up from his angry brooding. "I was at Ostagar. I know what it's like to have hordes of darkspawn piling up with no end in sight."

Silently Fergus was reassessing his chances of making Alistair decide to become king. Maybe there was a shot after all.

"Tch, then you know it's no use." Wulff grumbled and drank, nearly finishing off his tankard. "All of southern Ferelden covered by black clouds, the ground rotting beneath your feet, plagues and darkspawn raids going on until even the crows get sick of the smell of carrion."

"It's not all hopeless! Look, the Grey Wardens need help. We've been gathering an army." Alistair paused and looked to Fergus who gave him an encouraging nod. "We can stop this Blight, but only if we have all of Ferelden with us."

"Sodding good luck to you then." Wulff replied without looking up.

They were losing Wulff and Alistair fumbled for a decent reply to that. Fergus mercifully stepped in to help. "If Loghain loses his rank as Regent, we can get the Bannorn to stop fighting by putting a new candidate for the throne forward." Out of the corner of his eye he saw Alistair flinch and hoped that Wulff didn't notice.

The Arl chuckled, raising his now empty tankard in the universal sign of needed a refill. "Yeah? Who?"

"Maric's last living son." Fergus replied smoothly, gesturing at Alistair.

Wulff looked over the young man briefly. "No promises, but I'll consider."

"Thank you Wulff." The barmaid came around just as Fergus stood and he gave her a couple of coins. "This round is on me." He put a hand on Alistair's shoulder and quit the Noble before the Warden could have a nervous breakdown. "See, now that wasn't so bad."

Alistair raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about? He only said he'd think about it. And that was a very shaky maybe."

"Give him another drink to mull it over and he'll come around. Wulff is a good man that terrible things have happened to. Loghain has done him no favors, so he'll be more inclined to join us when the time arrives."

"This all seems very sneaky." Alistair replied dryly. "I don't like sneaky."

Fergus laughed at that. "Then be grateful you aren't trying this in Orlais!"

"Or Antiva." Alistair grinned back. "I have it on good authority the Antivian royal line is headed by bastards several times over."

Fergus grinned and lead the way back to the Highever estate. "I wouldn't be surprised in the least. But next we're going to have an inspection of my men. Amaranthine and Highever have always been connected, and with Howe gone, we've…_ inherited_ a good number of his troops. Have you ever given a speech before?"

Alistair sputtered again. "A-a speech? _Me?_ Maker _no_."

"Well, then now would be a good time to practice." Fergus replied with a grin and barely restrained himself from ruffling the man's hair. It was like having a younger brother again. "If you ever find yourself in charge of a platoon of nervous men in the heat of battle, a few words can go a long way toward a victory."

"But I can't give a _speech_." Alistair gasped. "I get the most horrible stutter, and my mind starts wandering. Maybe it's alright at first, but next thing you know I'm talking about dragons having afternoon tea."

"That's what practice is for." He clapped the younger man heartily on the shoulder, shaking him slightly when Alistair looked like he wanted to argue, well on the way to unleashing his pouting face. "It's much easier to do when you're _not_ about to be beheaded by darkspawn. Trust me. Just talk to them like a Grey Warden. They'll respect you for that, if nothing else."

Alistair sighed, his shoulders slumping forward. "Remind me when we get back to tell Theron that he's an _evil_ little elf for agreeing to this."

* * *

><p>Sorry guys for being a bit late! First day of the new semester and I forgot to upload the chapter the night before so I could ship it off this morning. Ah well.<p>

After adventuring across Ferelden with the oh-so-polite Theron, Alistair is most definitely hardened. There's a couple of reasons here why I think Alistair would be more open to the leading thing, one technical, and one because of the story. Technically, as a rogue playthrough I've found that it's a terrible idea to lead with your rogue. Because every door with a million bandits behind it immediately generate threats on the first thing that walks through said door, and a rogue that gets all the heat is a dead rogue. Therefore, leading with your tank (in my case Alistair) is a much better idea. As far as the story goes, Theron can hardly tell up from down when he's indoors, so either Alistair, Sten, or Oghren had to lead the way or risk getting lost and running in circles forever.

This is the point in the story where things are going to start going a little differently than what's scripted in Origins, and I hope ya'll like my tweaks. I figure that since the Wardens are now playing a bigger part in the storyline that I should compensate somehow so that we don't have another walk-through on our hands. There are events and dialogue trains that I think are unavoidable, but I'll see if we can't have a little fun with it. So, big brother Fergus is taking wittle Alistair under his wing. I wonder how much this'll effect the Landsmeet?


	48. Alienage

Kallian always did her best thinking on rooftops. It was a kind of escape that she'd learned early on in life. People just didn't look up on roofs, and so if you wanted to stay undisturbed, that's where you went. Even if prying fathers or nosy cousins did want your attention, half the time they were too chicken to make the climb anyway and so would leave her alone for fear of breaking their necks. The roof of the Highever estate was like this for her too. If things got too hectic, she could always climb the building and escape, above the noise and the scrutiny of her fellow elves and human hosts. Behind the stone walls of the estate and two stories in the air, it was calm and peaceful, and she could feel alone.

Her gaze wandered the night skyline of Denerim, settling on a dark low patch next to the river that she knew to be the Alienage. Reports had just come in as the sun was setting that the guards outside the gates had left and never returned. Reportedly, the night watch that usually took over just never showed up. Without Howe there to keep the Alienage under lock and key, Loghain had recalled all the available soldiers for his war effort on the Bannorn, needing more men for the pyre in his mad dash to try and stomp out the resistance of the Banns before the Landsmeet, which was quickly approaching.

News that the Alienage was open initially caused a wave of joy. She could finally find out if Shianni and her father were all right. The others in the estate could go home to their families; it was all going to be okay. But then a revelation hit her upside the head like a brick, and she counted herself a fool for not realizing it sooner. The Alienage was where the Tevinters had set up shop. It was the only place in Denerim where she didn't have eyes or access; a perfect place for the scum slavers to hide from the hand of the Knifers. Now she needed to be cautious, to control her people and keep them from plunging head first into the trap that they'd already survived once. She wasn't going to see them all clapped in irons a second time.

The sound of someone climbing the side of the building roused Kallian from her thoughts and she looked up just in time to see Theron heft himself over the edge with a ripple of muscle and stand on the clay tiled roof with his bare feet. She wasn't surprised. Ever since that afternoon when she'd come to tell Aedan that there was no sight of Solona the Dale had been her shadow. He had claimed that he wanted to know more about the plight of the city elves, but she had a feeling that what he really wanted was to ask questions. Kallian never gave him an opportunity. There was too much to do to placate the Warden with idle answers to awkward questions that undoubtedly had to do with her actions in the Denerim dungeon. She had no inclination to be sharing that part of her life with him and avoided every clever detour that their conversations took that would inevitably lead in that direction.

Theron took her distant frown as an invitation to sit and planted himself just within arm's reach next to Kallian on the roof, his gaze drawn to the same dark patch that Kallian was busy staring at. "Are you ready to go back?"

She had expected something different from Theron, but apparently her skillful evasion of his questions had finally gotten through to him. Kallian was briefly glad that he wasn't as dense as he sometimes made himself out to be. "I think so." She replied, settling down with her knees propped up and her arms wrapped around them. "I hope so."

"Going home isn't easy." Theron said quietly, folding one of his legs underneath him and leaned back, staring up at the stars. "Not once you've left and the road has changed you. I wouldn't know myself. My clan is long gone, fled north, perhaps across the sea or over the mountains. Away from the Blight, and me. But I wonder sometimes; what would I say to them if I saw them again? Would they welcome me back, or would I be a stranger?"

Kallian looked over her shoulder at him, surprised. She'd never heard the Warden talk much about himself, though she'd seen him on the receiving end of much chatting many a time from his companions. She always saw him as the solution to the problem, not someone who had any of his own. Then again, after his confession the other night about having to kill his childhood friend, she knew that to be as far from the truth as it could get. "I think it would be hard for anyone t'forget you. Yer sorta too brassy."

Theron's smile was weak and fleeting, but it appeared briefly all the same. "Maybe they would be eager to forget me, then."

She snorted at that, settling her chin on her forearm. "What're you on about, Theron? I can't figure you out."

"I have been told many times that I am… too rough when talking to others." He replied hesitantly, picking at a run in his shirt. "But you don't seem to mind."

"When you live on the streets as long as I have, you get used to it." Kallian replied with a quick flick of a smile. "You're a bit frayed around the edges, but you ain't all that bad compared to some of the scum that I've talked to."

He wasn't sure if he should be offended or flattered, and instead settled for neither. "You should tell me about them." He said mildly, earning a curious glance from Kallian. "Your people, the city elves. You asked me once what the Dalish are like, and I answered."

"Ah, a favor for a favor, huh?" She asked, lifting her head off her arms and tilting her head slightly in his direction. "Well, if you're gonna be dogging my every step like you have been, then you'll see 'em up close an' personal tomorrow. The gates are open, an' the Purge is lifted. I'm gonna get my people in there, and we'll ferret out those slavers and put them to bed permanently."

Theron arched his eyebrow in return. "No words of wisdom?"

"Nope." Kallian replied with a roguish grin. "It's best if you just see it yerself an' make yer own decision. But I'll tell you this much just as a special favor; keep your righteous Dalishness to yourself. Look, an' listen. You'll get farther with a closed mouth than an open one."

"I'll… take it under advisement." Theron replied hesitantly, studying the profile of Kallian's face in the darkness. "But what should I expect tomorrow? I'm not particularly a fan of walking into traps, and that's exactly what this seems like its panning out to be."

"Well, a few things, maybe." Kallian replied nonchalantly, her eyes drawn back to the horizon. "Could be that there's a welcome home party waiting for me on the other side. Maybe there'll be a picket line of elves demanding my head on a platter. It's a toss up, really."

"I… are you joking?" Theron seemed legitimately confused, enough that Kallian almost felt sorry for the poor blighter. "I don't understand. What have you done?"

"I didn't die." Kallian replied with the barest hint of bitterness. "That's enough for some, it seems." She stood, making a show of stretching with a wide yawn that was entirely for Theron's benefit. "Big day tomorrow. Best go get your beauty sleep, Slugger. If my hunch is right, then we're gonna have a fight on our hands soon enough."

Theron tilted his head at the new nickname, having become used to Kallian's penchant for dishing them out whenever it suited her taste. He'd had a handful of monikers already today, though she hadn't settled on one as of yet. "Tomorrow it is." He agreed and started for the edge of the roof, realizing that the tight-lipped thief wasn't going to be divulging any more tonight.

•º•.•º•

The next morning had the Wardens knocking at the Highever doors again, Kallian just finishing up giving orders to a small group of Knifers when Rebecca escorted the human and elf duo into the foyer. A small task force had been elected to go ahead into the Alienage to do some light scouting and to placate the other elves that were staying behind. Many of them wanted to go home right away, but she had convinced them that it was a bad idea on account of the Slavers still being at large. All of them were to return to the estate by dusk, and to fail to show up was to be counted dead or captured. With the warning fresh in their minds, the small group of elves left the estate to head for the Alienage.

Naturally, Aedan had signed himself up to join Kallian's group, and she let him on the task force with only token resistance. She had spent near a half hour lecturing him on the sensitive nature of his being a human, and that sending him into the Alienage fully armed would probably start a riot. He agreed to the terms that he was to keep his weapons sheathed unless outright attacked and make eye contact with absolutely no one if it could at all be helped. The young noble was obviously eager to be under way, and Kallian couldn't blame him.

Her real issue was with Alistair. She liked the Warden well enough for a human that she barely knew, and she and Theron quickly came to verbal sparring over the merits of having him tag along. The Warden argued that having extra muscle wouldn't be a determent to their cause if she really thought that they were going to be facing another slaver cell, and that Alistair's skill as a Templar would be handy if they ran into blood mages. Surprisingly, Aedan joined in on the cause, arguing in favor for the Wardens to come along, though his argument had a slightly more political bent attached to it.

Eventually, Kallian caved in but told Alistair that in no uncertain terms was he to make eye contact with _anyone_, along with half a dozen other rules that Aedan had already gotten an earfull from. With everything settled, they made their way out to the Alienage. The closer they got to the gates though, the more that Kallian's bravado was beginning to fade, and by the time that she stepped through the gates she was quietly indulging in a nervous breakdown.

She wasn't sure what she would be more nervous about. A joyous reception, or a rioting crowd. Stories had come from the Denerim elves about her once she had started asking, though most were nervous to tell her everything they'd heard. Rumor had it that she had sold out Shianni and made a break for Redcliffe after she'd been captured. Others were angry about the Purge itself, muttering angrily that if she'd just have kept quiet that none of them would have suffered. Still others were glad that she had washed the castle walls with blood, showing that damned brat Vaughn that not all elves would so easily be pushed over. It truly was going to be a surprise when she walked through those gates, one way or the other.

Theron quietly walked at her side, the two elves leading the humans behind them, Keran ranging forward and to the sides of their little group, nosing his way through the unfamiliar territory. "From what you told me last night, I had expected… more."

"Me too." Kallian replied warily, scanning the streets. She spotted a group of elves that were standing around and were now giving her the evil eye.

Theron looked at the group as well, noticing that the group of elves hastily looked the other direction when they saw the Dale staring back and quietly made themselves scarce. "Perhaps you worried too much."

"I seriously doubt that." She replied with a laugh that was more nervous than she'd intended it to be, scanning the streets for signs of disturbance. Normally, the Alienage was packed to the gills with elves, but it was unsettlingly empty. How many of her people had been taken by the slavers, or killed in the Purge? She didn't even want to know the number, and just hoped that nobody was keeping score. They rounded a corner to find an irritated mob gathered outside one of the central buildings, and Kallian couldn't help but to be relieved to find a good deal of elves standing around here.

"I've got children at home! I can't wait out here another day!" A woman yelled over the commotion.

"So go home!" Kallian's eyes snapped to the source of the voice, suddenly unable to breathe now that she was being swamped with an overwhelming sense of relief. It was Shianni, causing trouble as usual. She had never been so happy to see her cousin yelling at the masses before. "The best thing you can do for your children is not trust these charlatans!"

A man in feathery robes standing on the porch of the building held up his hands in a placating way. "Everyone remain calm. We will help as many as we can today, so long as we can do this in an orderly fashion."

"Oh, you're _helping_ us, are you shem?" Shianni yelled back, indignant. "Like Valendrian and my uncle Cyrion, you helped them, didn't you? Helped them never to be seen again!"

Clearly exasperated, the man on the porch sighed. "We've explained this to you before, girl. More whining will not persuade us to let you into the quarantine to carry plague back out to the Alienage."

Another male elf Kallian knew as Elim turned to Shianni, obviously having had enough with her shenanigans. "Quit trying to get us all killed, Shianni! Some of us have still got things to live for."

"If this spell of theirs works, why are half the people they quarantine perfectly healthy?" She shot back bitterly, her checks flushing an angry red.

Kallian found her voice, her feet carrying her a few steps forward. "Shianni?"

Her cousin whirled, a look of shocked disbelief on her face when she saw Kallian standing there. Her hands went to her mouth as if to keep it from falling open. "Maker's breath, Kallian?"

Kallian nodded once, then ran into Shianni and nearly barreled her over in a fierce hug that her cousin returned gladly. After a moment they stood apart from each other and Kallian tried very hard not to get too teary eyed. "I was afraid I'd come home just for you to be gone."

"Andraste's frilly skirts, I thought you were dead for sure! After they let me go and you never came out everyone thought… Valendrian even held a funeral for you." Shianni did tear up and hastily wiped at her eyes. "Cousin, you have no idea… the things that happened after your wedding… I'm babbling, aren't I?"

"You have a complicated past, da'len." Theron mumbled, looking over the two women.

"Wedding? I didn't know you were married." Aedan added, sounding slightly scandalized, then remembered that he wasn't supposed to make eye contact with anyone and directed his eyes elsewhere. Keran, who had returned from knocking over a rubbish bin, groaned in agreement.

"I'm not actually married." Kallian replied, feeling heat creep up her cheeks. "I was betrothed to a man I didn't even know. It… didn't end well."

The three men tagging along with her all exchanged looks, raised eyebrows all around at the obvious untold story that was behind those words. The mabari stared at her, making whiney grumbling noises and had pinned the elf down with innocently large brown eyes that begged to be confessed to. Shianni, realizing that Kallian was in need of a rescue pulled her cousin toward her. "Whatever the case, I'm glad to see you again." There was real warmth in her words, though sadness tinged her gaze. "It's good that you're home. But not everyone is going to be happy to see you. Some people blame you and Soris. Can you believe that? They're blaming you like it's your fault that the new Arl put a Purge on us."

"I was afraid of that." Kallian replied glumly, though was glad for the timely save. "Don't worry, Howe got what was coming to him, and so did Vaughn. They're both dead."

"Good." Shianni replied. "After that _human_ was appointed, the first thing he did was march his troops in here. Said something about us all being a danger to Denerim, and that we had to be put down."

"It's a fact that Howe sent the soldiers because of the castle massacre." Elim growled, butting into their conversation as if he were invited into it.

His continued self-righteousness got Shianni's dander up quickly. "Is it a fact? Really? So we should take _everything_ the shems say at face value? We're all lazy, vulgar thieves then? That's what they say, isn't it?" Both Kallian and Shianni were satisfied to see Elim turn red and hastily excuse himself from the conversation again.

"What about Valendrian?" Kallian asked, her heart already sinking. She'd heard Shianni say that their Hahren had been taken by these humans masquerading as healers. "Didn't he do something? Try and talk the Arl down?"

Shianni looked down at the ground. "He… well, that was something I wanted to talk to you about, actually. He was taken! These Tevinters took him into that house days ago, and no one's seen him since! They said he had the plague, but he didn't, cousin, he was healthy as a war hound. And now they've got him and won't let anyone see him."

Elim, apparently not having had enough of the two cousins' spiteful glares decided that he needed to throw in his own two cents. "They're educated men, Shianni, they'd know if he had the plague. And it's not as if Valendrian would make a show of illness even if he were on his deathbed."

"Hush up Elim!" Kallian hissed, turning all of her venom on the man. "If these Tevinters are here to help you, then I'm the bloody reincarnation of Holy Andraste." Panic was fueling her anger at the man, but she wasn't about to hold back on him. "What about my father? How long ago did they take him?"

Shianni turned sad, and Kallian panicked more. "After I came back and you didn't, he sort of… gave up the ghost. They took him weeks ago. I told him not to go to the hospice! Not one elf they've taken in there has come out again. Who knows what's become of them?"

"I know exactly what's become of them." Kallian mumbled darkly, her heart in her throat. Her father wasn't one of the rescues that she had saved since the Alienage had closed down. She tried to stay positive, telling herself that maybe he was being held over longer for whatever reason, but it was a tentative little hope at best. "Is there even really a plague?"

"Well, yes. There was. But the elves that the Tevinters are _healing_ aren't the ones that have it." Shianni replied, glancing to the man standing on the porch of the hospice house. "They said it came from the Blight. People fleeing from the darkspawn brought it with them to Denerim. After the refugees arrived, people here got sick. And these Tevinter vultures began circling, taking people out of the Alienage a few at a time."

"And then put them straight in cages and marched them to the boats." Kallian finished, cursing under her breath. "I've saved a lot of people, Shianni. They're outside the Alienage, waiting for the okay so that they can come back home."

"Maker's breath, so I was right…" Shianni sighed, pressing her thumb to the center of her forehead like she had a headache. "Sometimes I hate it when I'm right."

"Me too. But stay here and keep low. They'll take anyone that can drag themselves to the boats." Kallian sized up the mage briefly, then turned to Theron, Aedan and Alistair. "I'm going to go in there."

"Not alone, you're not." Aedan replied immediately, Keran barking twice as if to say _No Way_. "If they take you again, we might really never get you back."

"Well they're not going to let _you_ in." She muttered back in hushed tones. "They might let Theron in, but he's a bit on the prickly side to pretend to be a city elf."

"I will take that as a compliment." The Dale replied dryly, looking to the hospice as well. "If they're taking elves in and getting them out with no one noticing, then there must be a second way in. The three of us," he gestured to Aedan and Alistair, "will find the door and come in to back you up. Just try and not get killed before we do it."

"Cousin, this is crazy. You can't go in there." Shianni whispered, touching Kallian's arm lightly. "Elves that go in are _never _seen again."

Kallian smiled and pulled her cousin into a hug. "These three might not look like much, but I trust 'em to get me outta any trouble. They're good fellows." Shianni looked unconvinced, but let Kallian slip out of her grasp anyway. "We'll get to the bottom of this, don't worry."

"Wherever they're hiding the elves, they might be hiding Ammy." Kallian said to Aedan, who nodded in quiet agreement. "We'll get to the bottom of this and put these blighters out of business permanently."

"The entrance to the hospice is around back in the alley." Shianni added quietly, her concern obvious. "Maker watch you Kallian, I hope you come out alright."

Kallian smiled and hugged Shianni for one last time. "I'll be back before you know it."

"Be careful, Kallian." Aedan said as he passed her, Theron leading them around the crowd of elves. "The Knifers will never forgive me if you died on my watch."

"You just keep tabs on yourself there Basher." Kallian replied with a grin. "Ammy won't forgive _me_ if you die on _my_ watch." The group split and Kallian moved through the crowd of elves, making her way to the front. She had to push her way through the crowd to get near the hospice at all.

One of the men standing near the door noticed her movement. "There's no need to push! We will work our spell for each person in-" The robed man got one good look at Kallian and stopped mid-warning, an expression of horror passing over his face. "Hessarian's _mercy_, how long have you been ill, woman? You should have come here days ago!"

It took a great deal of effort for Kallian to not grin. These bloody fools were faker than a desperate merchant on sale day. "Oh _Maker_, no! I can't be sick! I have children!" She pitched her tone for hysteria, and the others standing around her backed off a step, some looking confused at the claim for having children. Anybody that knew her knew she couldn't woo a man to save her life, let alone have a child with one.

"The rest of you must stay back." The crowd parted easily for the man, and he escorted Kallian to the door of the hospice, apparently unafraid of her imagined blighted condition. "Only the sick are permitted inside!" He called over his shoulder to the crowd just in case anyone got any bright ideas.

"Oh please, blessed Andraste!" Kallian wailed, allowing herself to be escorted inside by one of the door guards. The inside of the hospice was incredibly bare for a place where the sickly were supposed to be camped out hoping to get better before they were killed by their disease. Kallian hadn't expected it to be quite so deserted, but it only confirmed her suspicions beyond any shadow of a doubt. This is where they were pulling the elves from.

Another guard from the back of the room came forward, looking Kallian over. "What's this?"

"We've got another one." The soldier escorting Kallian replied, pushing her forward into the second soldier, who grabbed her wrists roughly.

"She's a bit small, but she'll fetch a few sovereigns I figure." The second soldier said with a grin and started to drag her toward the back room. Kallian went along amiably enough, then twisted her wrists and kicked the man in the side of the knee. He cried in agony, letting go and falling over on the ground holding his injured knee. A handful of guards came out of the room in front of her and she quickly drew her knives from their concealed location in her boots.

Just then the back door burst open with the howl of a mabari on the warpath and chaos ensued. Theron quickly made his way to Kallian's side, deflecting the soldier that had escorted her in the building and leaving Kallian to guard his back. Aedan and Alistair carved their way through the handful of guards that had appeared from the back room, Keran knocking or dragging them off their feet, and the fight ended quickly.

"This way." Kallian breathed, not bothering to sheathe her daggers and jogged into the back room and was confronted with the sight of pens of elves, half a dozen to a cage and all of them looking frightened but otherwise not in the least bit sick.

"Help us! Please, we're not sick!" One of the elves came forward; his right eye was a startling shade of purple from a punch to the face. "Let us out of here!"

"Don't worry, I've got them." Kallian said over her shoulder and quickly took out her lock picking tools. "Go see if you can find anythin' that'll say where we can find the rest of these slavers."

Behind her Theron and Alistair flared out, searching the dead guards for papers. Aedan lingered a moment longer, then went out as well. Kallian made quick work of the lock, the door to the gate swinging open on rusty hinges. "You lot go ahead and get out of here, and stay low. There's more where this bunch came from." Most of the elves fled immediately, but the one with the blackened eye stayed behind.

"Thank you!" He breathed, smiling despite the blackened eye. "It's good to have you back, Kalli. I knew what they were saying about you wasn't true."

Her returning glare wasn't particularly directed at the elf, but he ended up on the receiving end anyway. "Yeah, they've been sayin' a lot about me, I hear. Go on, get. And warn the others. These Tevinters are gettin' what's coming to them."

He nodded and fled the room, leaving Kallian to open the other doors. She was thanked several more times, but mostly the caged elves were too frightened to do more than run away as fast as they could. Once all of the cages were open she went back out into the main room to find the other three waiting for her.

"I found this." Aedan said, holding up a piece of paper. "'Bring eight males and six females for the next shipment'."

"They must be takin' precautious to make sure that they don't lose everythin' when we raid them." Kallian muttered to herself, taking the piece of paper and turning it over in her fingers.

"Let's go and reveal these frauds." Theron started for the door, blades in hand. "This can not continue. Shartan did not march for the freedom of our peoples only to have them thrown back in chains."

Kallian blinked in surprise, not at all expecting the Dale to know the story of Shartan when even the elves of the city were not allowed to speak of such things. She followed Theron to the door and when it opened they were confronted with the sight of a crowd of shocked elves and angry guards.

Kallian boldly stepped forward, thrusting a hand in the air with her bloody dagger still in her palm. "These men are here to put you in chains!" She yelled over the startled babble that was quickly filling the square. "They are taking your families to Tevinter! We will not let them fool us any longer!" A great murmuring went up among the crowd; some panicking and fleeing the square outright while others began to eye the Tevinters with animosity.

The mage who was in charged yelled something in Arcanum, then the guards of the square attacked the group of four, bringing their blades to bear and immediately went about trying their best to skewer them. Behind the group the mage was summoning a spell, intent on blowing all of them up and silencing the rebellion before it could start. Alistair was quick to react, a smite rolling over the mage and throwing him to the ground with its intensity.

Aedan covered Kallian, his shield taking the blow of two slavers trying to cut off her head and the lithe elf returned the favor by jamming her daggers into the nearest man's side, the thin blades shearing through the chinks in his armor and left him bleeding and unable to breathe properly. Outside of the ring of the fight, the elves that had been rallied by Kallian's words were throwing whatever they could get their hands on at the slavers, yelling and jeering from their safe place outside the fight. Several rocks to the head was enough to distract one of the Tevinter soldiers, and he was decapitated for his lapse in attention by Alistair.

A burst of fire fell on them, washing over the square as a second mage joined the fray and very nearly roasted Aedan and Alistair alive in their armor, the slaver guards faring no better. Kallian felt raw from the heat on one side of her face where the blast had hit her hard and quickly found the mage readying another fireball. She flipped her dagger and held it by the tip, cocking her arm back and threw the weapon, the blade lodging itself in the hollow of the mage's neck just above his collarbone. He fell over backwards, gagging on his own blood and squirmed in the dirt before dying. The first mage was on his feet again, trying and failing to cast a spell with the effects of the Smite still lingering over him and instead resorted to blood magic, tearing a long gouge on the inside of his arm with a small dagger.

The flux of power in the square was immediately felt by all, and the elves who had been throwing rocks fled at the sight of the blood mage wielding his full power, the Veil shimmering into view for even those without any magic and began to tear, the wrapped head of a shade sticking through the rent in reality. Alistair hastily threw another smite at the mage, but it did not lessen the power of his raw blood magic, and the mage only laughed at the attempt.

Theron took matters into his own hands rushing forward around two Tevinter guards who tried their best to hack him to little bits and set upon the mage, bringing his blade across the man's chest. Another pulse of magic sent Theron staggering backwards and the shade came out to play, seeping from the hole in the Veil and chuckled with a sound like rocks grating together.

"I hate mages!" He hissed to himself and quickly twisted out of the way when the shade came after him, claws outstretched and ready to rend flesh if it could get purchase on the nimble elf. Theron proved a match for the beast, avoiding the creature's attacks and slicing open anything his swords could bite into, wisps of dark magic seeping from the wounds like blood under water.

With one dagger left Kallian put it through the visor slot of the last man left attacking Aedan and they quickly went to Alistair's aid who was doing his best to not get killed under the pressure of three men taking turns beating him back against a wall. While they struggled against the opposition, Keran darted from where he had been tearing out a man's throat and went straight for the mage, taking the man by surprise and knocking him to the ground. The shade turned its attention from trying to eviscerate Theron and put it's one-eyed gaze on the hound instead, gliding over to the war dog and began trying to rip apart the mabari instead.

Now left to his own devices, Theron sprinted for the downed mage and laid his throat open before another shade could be summoned or worse pulled through the Veil. Once the mage was dead the shade went into a rage, clawing with wild flails at Keran who was just doing his best to keep out of the way. Out of seemingly nowhere a dagger flew across the space and embedded into the shade's neck, making the thing scream and claw at the intruding piece of metal. Alistair appeared shortly after, defending against the shade's wild death flails with his shield and stuck his sword through the main body of the beast, ending its short magical life.

The square had gone quite, all of the elves either fled or dead after the attack and all of the Tevinter traders laying in pools of their own blood on the ground.

"It's never a complete day without a little massacre here an' there." Kallian quipped with a small grin, picking her dagger up from the pile of ashes that the shade had left behind before going to pull the second one out of the mage's throat she had killed earlier.

"I doubt that we would be so lucky to end this here." Theron replied, wiping off his blades on the dead mage whose throat he had slit before sheathing them. "We found these slavers' holding ground, but we have yet to find their base of operations."

Keran perked up, abandoning licking his coat clean of blood and barked several times, running toward the alleyway behind the hospice and paused at the corner, tail wagging and continued barking. "I think he's got that part handled." Aedan said with the barest hint of a grin. "If Solona is here, he should be able to pick up her scent."

"Then lets go rescue a damsel." Kallian sheathed her blades and followed after the mabari.

* * *

><p>Ugugugugu, right, so, another late Monday update. I think I'll be switching to updates on Fridays, since I don't have class at the asscrack of dawn on Fridays like I do the rest of the week. So, update this Friday? Dunno.<p>

So, this chapter and the next one are kind of me just indulging in my fangirlness over Kallian. Oh, and also some Kalli/Theo action, because I can, and because ya'll want it. I hope you get as much of a kick out of it as I do. Thanks for reading, and I'll see ya'll again maybe this Friday, but definitely next Friday.


	49. The Magister's Whim

Keran led the way back to a tall apartment complex that seemed ready to fall over at any second, which wasn't all that unusual given that it's neighbors were just as decrepit looking. Theron had been looking around the Alienage as they went, barely able to believe what he was seeing. Much of Denerim was in poor condition, but the Alienage was a whole other warren of shanties and hastily erected buildings that should have been condemned as unlivable years ago. Yet the city elves made the best of it, making worth of their own lives every day. Before now he had always thought that the city elves were content with their living conditions in the laps of the shemlen, but now he knew that was staunchly untrue. The faces he saw looking back at him were not those of a people content with their prison. They were people who had been given a bad hand in life and were being resourceful enough to get through it together as a community. He had a new respect for these elves, and Kallian in particular who seemed to be the best of the lot.

She was leading them through the apartment complex, remarking that someone should have been there to greet them at the door out of sense of hospitality if not safety. As they walked inside of the apartment complex she became increasingly nervous, moving silently over the creaking floorboards. At the end of one of the halls a door stood ajar, the doorframe damaged from being knocked inwards by a strong force. Inside the single room suite was utterly disheveled. There was a heap of broken wood in the center of the room that might have been a chair once, a toy had been left on the floor, abandoned, and the dining table was set with chairs that had been hurriedly pushed backwards, one laying on its back where it had toppled to the floor.

"Someone left in a hurry." Aedan muttered quietly, and Keran quickly moved forward into the room, sniffing around and wasn't content until he had put his nose on every surface.

"Or they were taken." Kallian replied softly, bending down and picking up the abandoned doll on the floor, handling it gently and with sadness in her gaze. "They musta come in here an' taken everyone by surprise. I wonder how long ago?"

Keran had finished his inspection of the room and padded out of it quietly, still following his nose. "I don't know. But I suggest we keep following the dog." Theron replied, walking out after Keran. The mabari paused at a door a little distance down the hall and his hackles rose, the sound a low growl in his chest filling the hallway. "Whoever took your kinsmen may not have left yet." He tried the door and found it locked, then quickly produced a lock pick and made quick work of the flimsy house lock. The door swung open practically on its own and Theron nearly lost his head as an arrow whizzed past his right ear.

The arrow was followed up by a slaver with a shield that nearly broke Theron's nose when he bashed it into the elf.

"Oh no you don't!" Alistair knocked the man sideways with his own shield and put his sword through the man's neck in the slot between his helmet and his armor. The bowman still in the back of the room shot again, this time scoring a hit on Alistair's shoulder with a loud _ping_ that dented the metal.

Theron pulled Alistair sideways out of the line of fire not a second too soon as another arrow buried itself in the wall where his head had been. With no targets in eyesight the archer had to move to get a bead on the intruders and those in the room had to file out to try and attack the four. Keran barked, baiting the slavers into stringing out into the hallway where they were mercilessly shredded by either Aedan or Alistair standing on either side of the doorway. The archer had moved into a better position to fire, but accidentally shot one of his comrades in the back instead of hitting Alistair, the slaver pitching forward from the force of it and nearly knocked Alistair backwards and off his feet.

On the other side of the door Kallian sized up what she could see of the room beyond, her daggers working tirelessly to cut down anyone that appeared within range behind Aedan's shield. Occasionally Keran would dart forward and take a soldier by the ankle to drag him into the hallway, but he took an arrow in the flank and retreated with a pained howl. The slavers stopped coming, and only the bowman was left in the room, holding his position. Any attempt to look in the room was met with an arrow.

"We can't just stand here all day." Kallian grumbled, her hands itching to get moving again.

"Hey, throw me your shield." Alistair said suddenly, sheathing his sword and holding out his hand for Aedan to toss his kite shield over.

Aedan at first was confused, then caught on and disengaged his shield. "Be careful." Another arrow buried itself in the wall when the archer saw the shield fly across the doorway.

"Theron, you cover me from behind." Alistair said with a distant grin, slipping Aedan's shield over his sword arm and positioned the two shields so that they would cover the majority of his front and face, making him a hard target for the archer inside the room. "It's too bad you don't have your bow with you. I think I would have liked to see a little arrow duel."

Theron frowned and fell in behind Alistair. "Quiet you." The Dale replied, nudging Alistair forward with a poke from his swords. "Concentrate on not getting shot."

Alistair shot the elf a grin over his shoulder. "Well that just goes without saying, doesn't it?" The brief jaunty dialogue was cut off abruptly when Alistair stepped out into the line of fire, an arrow reflecting off the center of his left shield and ricocheted somewhere back into the room with a dull _thud_. From inside the room the shooter cursed loudly and started pelting Alistair with arrows, aiming for his legs but met with little success, his metal shin guards doing their work. Theron stuck close to Alistair's back, waiting until they were close enough then quickly rolled out from behind the protection of the shield. The archer didn't even register what happened as the elf bore down on him, slicing clean through the tip of the bow, his next strike puncturing the unfortunate man's throat.

Theron flicked his blade clean and Alistair straightened, calling an "all clear" and tossed Aedan's shield back to him. Keran whined, limping into the room and Aedan quickly removed the arrow sticking out of the war hound's flank, applying a bit of healing save to the wound and giving the mabari a good scratch under his chin for his bravery.

"If there are more slavers around, they probably heard that fight." Theron said, inspecting a door on the other side of the room but opened it only to find a closet full of clothes and cleaning supplies. "Has your hound got another lead?" Idly he inspected the body of the bowman, turning the corpse over with his foot and relieved the dead man of a key attached to his belt.

Keran answered for himself, barking loudly and headed back out into the hallway with only a small limp from his injury and pawed at a locked door. Theron tried his key and found that it worked, leading them to yet another door, which led outside. Behind the apartments was a long alleyway composted of the back yards of surrounding complexes, the backsides of the Alienage's ramshackle homes just as unimpressive as they were from the front. If they were hoping for an easy way in, then their group was to remain disappointed.

"Who the in the bloody Void are you supposed to be?" A man in full leathers asked, walking forward from a group that had been chatting near one of the houses, trampling a patch of cabbages that had long been unattended if the height of the weeds was anything to go by. "You ain't no Tevinters."

"Do all of these guys have to state the painfully obvious?" Alistair asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Seems so." Theron replied quickly, unsheathing his swords and lunging forward before the man could get off more than a strangled cry of warning to his fellows. The others in the alleyway saw their comrade fall and leapt to join the fray. The guards met heavy resistance from the intruders, Alistair and Aedan working in tandem to break the initial charge with their shields, inflicting a number of their opponents with broken noses and bashed in heads. Theron simply seemed to disappear for a moment, only to reappear again with his daggers in the back of a guard, the man stumbling into the back of his companions when the elf kicked him in the back. Three of the guards trying to pin down Alistair and Aedan lost their balance and fell over when the dead weight of their ally was suddenly thrown at them, making them easy targets for Keran who made short work of anyone the hound could get his jaws around.

A nervous archer who had fled to the opposite end of the alleyway peppered them with arrows, glancing blows off their armor and occasionally hitting allies in the back. Kallian ducked around Aedan's shield, an arrow whizzing past her left ear and quickly made for the cover of an enraged shield warrior that was hastily hacking at Theron with no rhyme or reason. She put a quick end to that, her pinpoint strike slipping between the cracks in his leather armor and severing the tendons of his sword hand. The man howled in pain, dropping his weapon and the two rogues grabbed him by the shoulders, running him backwards until they had the archer down the alley pinned against the wall, his bow useless to defend him when Theron slit his throat wide open with a spray of blood.

Behind them Alistair finished the last of the guards, yanking his sword from the gut of a man that had the misfortune to impale himself. The man grumbled and groaned in pain, clutching at his wound, and the Grey Warden mercifully put him out of his misery. "Right, well, that was fun." Alistair quipped, flicking his blade to get the worst of the blood off of it.

"And it's not over yet." Aedan replied grimly, picking his way over the pile of bodies that had accumulated at their feet, wiping at a track of blood on his cheek from a shallow sword wound. "This could get out of hand very quickly."

"We don't got much choice but to keep going, though." Kallian called from her place near a door the led into a warehouse near where she and Theron had killed the archer. "These blokes we just killed are gonna be missed. I'd bet my boots that they're just a front guard."

"She's right." Theron agreed, not even bothering to clean off his blades, predicting that they would be drenched in far more blood before the day was out. "The bodies will warn any left that we're coming for them, if they didn't hear the noise of the battle already. If we don't press on, we may lose them entirely."

The meaningful look Kallian shot Aedan didn't need an explanation: If they lost the slavers again, they lost Solona too. "Then let's get on-"

"Oy! More bodies over here!" All eyes turned toward the apartment complex they had just left, a familiar face peeking out from the ajar door.

"Sticker?" Kallian called, recognizing his shock of orange hair. The elf moved out into the alleyway, his small cell of fellow Knifers following along in his wake, all of them looking surprised to see their leader standing among the carnage.

"Damn." Sticker whistled, prodding at a dead man with the toe of his shoe. "You do get results when you're serious. We just came from the square and saw what ya'll did there." He took a silent head count of the dead, looking over the blood splattered fronts of the Wardens. "Seems like we arrived just a little late to join in on the fun."

"Tch, I though I told you lot to stay out of trouble, not go looking for it." Kallian replied, though her harsh tone was tempered by a good-natured smile.

"Well, you know. Can't keep my nose out of anything." Sticker smiled back.

"Well, just this once I'll let it slip. But we're about to get into more trouble, so you best just come along for the ride." She jerked her chin in the direction of the door at the end of the alley, indicating that the Knifer cell should follow along. "But keep yer weapons out. This ain't gonna be a jaunty little stroll through the park."

"It never is, is it?" Sticker sighed, his tone dry as a desert and fell in with the group, sticking close to Aedan and Kallian, obviously feeling safer between the two of them than with the Wardens.

Fortunately, opening the next door didn't land them in the middle of another battle. What Alistair found upon entering instead was a line of angry looking men, armed to the teeth with swords drawn and all prepared to jump into the fray. Among them standing directly in front of the door was an elven woman in similar Tevinter armor, dark hair framing a thin face and a quiver of arrows sticking out from behind her shoulder. She looked put out at the sudden influx of uninvited guests, sneering at Alistair. "What's the meaning of this? We were told there would be no interference from the authorities."

"You hear that Theron?" Alistair asked with a brief chuckle. "We're_ authorities_ now. That's a nice change of pace, isn't it? Do you think that would work next time we bust in on something illegal? Stop! We're the authorities!" His nonchalant mocking did nothing to humor the elven woman or the soldiers flanking her, her expression changing from mildly annoyed to blatantly angry.

For his part, Theron was not amused, a dark glower settling over his features. "I'm constantly amazed at the stupidity of these Tevinters. I never expected an elf to willingly be part of putting her fellows in chains."

The elf in question shook her head. "So, being an elf makes us somehow kin? Don't be a fool. I am Tevinter first and a Servant of the Minrathous Circle second. Those are the things that matter. But enough. I am here to halt your slaughter, nothing more."

"Good sodding luck!" Kallian hissed, pushing her way forward so that she stood next to Theron, every line in her body tense and ready for battle. "You picked the wrong damn Alienage to come stomping around in. You're not getting your bloody hands on any more of my people." Behind her the cell of Knifers grumbled in agreement, loosing their swords from their sheathes and ready to bear arms the second that the tension broke and the battle started. Anyone that knew Kallian knew she was on a warpath, and for once no one was going to try and talk her down. Aedan shifted his position, covering Kallian's flank with his sword at the ready, Keran's low growl filling the room.

The elf woman looked intimidated for the briefest of seconds, her eyes widening slightly, then she laughed. "_This _is supposed to frighten me? Then let's put you out of your misery. I intend to see you pay for the damage you've done here."

"You first." Kallian hissed and her short knife suddenly flashed out. She darted forward without any warning, dipping low with her weapons at the ready and covered the space between the door and the woman in a few seconds. The elf barely managed to unsheathe her bow as Kallian bore down on her, deflecting the first swipe of her off-hand sword but was left defenseless when Kallian rammed her main hand weapon up into the slaver elf's torso. Her thin blade slipped between the leather sections guarding her abdomen, shearing straight through her stomach and up into her lungs. The woman only managed a surprised look and a gurgle, dropping her bow as the life quickly drained out of her, meeting Kallian's eyes to the end as she sank to her knees.

With a fierce battle cry the Tevinter slavers rallied, falling on the tight knot of elves. A handful of arrows sang through the air at them from the next room over. With a hissed curse Aedan quickly sprinted to Kallian's side, raising his shield and dropping down to cover her from the hail of arrows, taking one in his thigh for the effort but kept the elf from being made into a living pincushion. The slavers moved in, falling on the two estranged from the group white the rest of the group charged the line of elves standing in the doorway.

Alistair bore the brunt of the abuse, deliberately stepping in the way when a hand full of the slavers came straight for Theron, no doubt intending to end the elves before they could cause more trouble. He found the pressure of the onslaught lessened considerably when the Knifers quickly backed him up, using their skills to whittle away at the soldier's concentration and their defense, providing ample opportunities for Alistair to deliver hard blows. After receiving training from Aedan they were more than used to working with an against shield bearing opponents and used Alistair's greater defensive coverage to their advantage, ducking behind his shield and staying out of the way when confronted with an opponent they couldn't face directly, their natural litheness coming in handy.

Sticker cut the tendons of a man standing in his way and used the flailing of the slaver as a cover to back up Kallian, falling into the rhythm of the battle at her side, Aedan heading up their little triangle of resistance. Desperate to get to his master's side, Keran tore ferociously at anyone in his way, barreling at least two men over in his desperate bid to join Aedan and sent the men flailing backwards into their companions when they didn't move fast enough out of his way.

With his flank guarded by Aedan's body Keran worked the battle, offsetting the slavers by ramming their legs and tripping them up, barking furiously enough to frighten some away all together and make them easier targets. Once some of the close combat slavers fell, they opened up a window for the archers to start up again, a handful of bowmen standing behind a long table that would prevent any headlong charge from reaching them.

Aedan took an arrow to the shoulder in one of the lulls in battle, the metal arrowhead managing to stick though his armor and chainmail straight to the bone. With a grunt of pain he broke it off at the head and ducked out of the way of another arrow that came whizzing his way, raising his shield to block an oncoming barrage despite the pain it caused in his fresh injury. The defenders scattered when another round of arrows took one Knifer in the leg, the elf crumpling where he stood in pain and it took both Kallian and Sticker to haul him to the safety of a nearby hallway once the door had been kicked down by Sticker and to their relief found it empty.

Seeing a possibility at a more strategic place to hold their ground Theron made quick work of the slaves standing between their group and the hall, allowing the Knifers who had come along to make a dash for the safety of the hall. Alistair and Aedan were the last to file into the room, beating back two more surviving slavers that wouldn't lay down and die before escaping the range of the bowmen behind the tables.

They were given a brief reprieve, two arrows shuddering in the doorframe where they'd buried their heads, missing Alistair and Aedan as targets now that the two were well out of the line of fire. "I'm _really_ missing your bow right about now." Alistair muttered at Theron, keeping his eye on the room beyond to make sure that the bowmen didn't get smart and decide to abandon the safety of their current position to come and hunt them down.

"I'm starting to agree with you." The Dale replied, bending down over the elf who'd gotten shot in the leg and quickly removed the projectile, his skilled hands wrapping a quick field dress over the wound before things could get too bloody, his quick efficiency speaking of having to do the same motion many times over. "I never thought I would miss having Wynne around, but I certainly do now."

"Well, no point pinin' over what we can't have." Kallian's brisk tone interrupted the Warden's little bonding session, watching Theron carefully to make sure he didn't unnecessarily inflict pain on the injured elf. "We need to figure out a way around those archers if-"

"Here they are!" The shout was a warning call to several more slavers that had gathered at the end of the hallway, all of them looking angry and ready to shed blood. Kallian whirled around, ready to face the charge with Sticker at her side. Before they could do anything however, Keran broke rank and charged the oncoming slavers, scattering them in the narrow hall and sending at least two flying off their feet. Aedan followed his war hound, plunging his blade into the mouth of one man that had the unfortunate luck to fall facing up, his spine severed instantly at the base of his skull. Despite the pain in his shoulder Aedan mustered his defenses, focusing his mind and blocking out the debilitating shoulder injury, putting it aside for the moment.

The Knifers sprung into action shortly afterwards, falling in behind Aedan in a well practiced maneuver that they'd honed on the docks of Denerim fighting more slaver cells than any cared to count. The hallway was soon filled with puddles of blood and severed armor pieces, leaving it clear for them to advance onward.

Theron had barely any time to join the end of the slaughter before the last slaver fell, and his shook his head in mild surprise. These city elves definitely weren't what he'd expected. At. All. The incredulous look that Alistair shot him indicated that the human hadn't expected it either, and Theron took some small comfort in that. Kallian noticed the two exchanging glances and smiled smugly, unbearably proud of her Knifers. "Right, anybody missing any limbs?"

Sticker was taking a head count, panting with exertion from the fight. "Not so bad as that, boss." He said, wiping off his blades on his pants before sheathing them to inspect a bloody patch on his leg. "Though we didn't all come out unscathed."

"We brought along a few potions." Theron offered, digging out a hand full of small cloth wrapped vials from a padded kit on his hip. "They do their best work on small wounds." He explained briefly as Kallian took them in hand, giving them a cursory once over before deeming them safe for her people to use.

"Basher, lemme see your arm." She called once she'd distributed the potions to her fellows that needed them most, keeping one for the human. Aedan hesitated to let Kallian at his injury, but she jerked his arm down so that she could get a good look at the wound, barely able to see the tip of the arrowhead through the small slit it had found in his armor. Ignoring his grunt of pain, Kallian dug out the arrowhead with her fingers and dumped the contents of the potion over the wound, holding Aedan still when he tried to flinch away. "Baby."

"Trollop." Aedan shot back bitterly and received only a grin from Kallian in return.

"If you're all done…" Theron drawled, unamused as always. Kallian shot him a radiant smile and he turned away with a roll of his eyes, Alistair following along closely behind. The room they were in led to a long hallways, the archers that they had faced before either fled or advancing on ahead of them to warn the others. The general consensus was that they wouldn't be springing any surprises and so the Knifers and the Wardens kept their wits about them, scanning the long hall for traps and tricks as they went. The hallway ended in an empty barrack, the state of affairs too nice to have been left in a rush. They were in the thick of it now, the heart of the slaver cell that had been plaguing the Alienage ever since Howe had the misfortune of holding it.

The room beyond would have been the crating room if this were any other warehouse, where the objects assembled would have been put into boxes for shipping. Instead, it seemed to be the holding ground for the elves that had been captured, two barred cells on either side of the room thick with elves that had been captured and put in chains. Kallian's skin crawled to see it, her face paling noticeably at the sight. Theron noticed and came to stand at her side in case she started to do something stupid or faint, brushing against her shoulder to silently let her know that he was there. Kallian shot him a quick look, her face clouding over with anger which she saw reflected on the Warden's face.

On the main floor a woman was standing among a group of men in slaver livery, her elaborate raven-shaped headdress and flowing feathery cape marking her a mage as clearly as the metal runed staff in her hand. She seemed to have been in the middle of a conversation with one of the archers that had come running, and when she turned to see the group standing on the elevated platform above the crating area, she smiled. "Well, speak of the _devil_. Look alive my men, we have important guests." The mage's teeth flashed white, her smile creased with age lines that no amount of thick makeup could even hope to cover up. Her crimson and feather gown flowed around her, obviously of a fine make that would probably even rouse jealousy in the nobility of Orlais. Alistair tensed, remembering the woman none too fondly from their brief encounter in the Denerim estate.

"We stand in the presence of quite a noble gathering!" The mage declared, taking a few steps forward so that she headed the group of slavers gathered around her, her smile seemingly open and welcoming. "The Grey Wardens, and even the bastard that would pretend himself king. I'll admit, it does tickle my fancy that you've brought the orphaned son of a disgraced noble along with you, Wardens. I had thought you would keep yourself in more dignified company. Then again, I suppose you need all of the allies you can get, don't you?" Her eyes rested on Aedan briefly, the smile that curved her lips turning dangerous for just the briefest of seconds, then she flashed her attention back to Alistair and Theron, pinning them as the leaders of this little expedition, not knowing that Kallian was truly the one that she should have been dealing with. "But where are my manners? I am Magister Denailah, and you, I assume, are here for righteous vengeance, yes?"

"Vengence is a good enough word, if you wanna use it." Kallian hissed, tired of being ignored. "But I prefer _slaughter._"

The Magister's eyes widened in surprise, not at all expecting the rag-tag looking redhead to be the one that appointed herself speaker of the group. "And who is this? A native, I presume? Let me guess dear, have my men taken your siblings? Your parents? Perhaps your lover? Whatever the case, it is regrettable, but business is business, yes? And I do believe I have some interesting business for your Warden friends, here."

"Whatever you're offering, we're not taking." Theron spat back, his hackles up. He had no patience for slavers, or their deals.

"Hold on, hear her out." Aedan said quickly before the slavers standing around the magister could jump to arms. Kallian and Theron both shot him an acidic glare, and the Knifers looked ready to impale him at any second if given cause.

"Yes, the Cousland boy has the right of it." Denailah purred, tracing the runes on her staff absently and held out a hand to stop her men from launching the offensive. "The city is abuzz with how the Grey Wardens are looking to overthrow Loghain in this upcoming Landsmeet. Quite the daring move if I do say so myself, but it must feel like a difficult task, yes? Like washing away a mountain, or splitting a tree with a herring. Perhaps you'd like a little help in that area?"

"This should be good." Theron turned his glare from Aedan to the magister, his tone laced with heavy sarcasm.

The magister arched her eyebrow. "Sarcasm is the lowest form of irony, my dear Warden. We can do better than that, can't we, hm?" She smiled again, the purr back in the tone of her voice. "If the truth is to be told, then it should be said that our time here always had its limits. We have been useful in Loghain for paying for the arms and armor of his troops, but once the Landsmeet is finished… Well, either you dethrone him, or he controls all of Ferelden. Either way, we become _expendable._ Or inconvenient, depending on how looks upon the situation. Neither is a good place for me to be in, so I am prepared to offer you a deal. For a hundred sovereigns, I will give you a letter bearing the seal of the Teyrn of Gwaren implicating him in _all_ of this. Then we leave a few days earlier than planned with our slaves and are out of your hair permanently. No need for bloodshed, just a simple exchange, and we both walk away with what we want."

"I feel dirty." Alistair said quietly, looking like he'd just been forced to taste something sour. "We're not considering this, are we?" Secretly, Aedan was impressed that the Wardens even had a hundred sovereigns to be bargaining with.

"Of course we're no-" Theron started but Aedan rolled right over him before he could make the declaration.

"IF!" he shot Theron a glare and Kallian one too for good measure to keep them both quiet. "If we were to agree to this, do you have the papers here? You'll understand if I'm cautious about letting one of your men go to _retrieve _it before handing it over."

The magister smiled and pulled an envelope from the folds of her robe, the rampant wyvern of Gwaren clearly marked in the yellow wax. "Of course. Then we have a deal?"

"Basher don't you dare-!" Kallian was surprised when it was Theron who reached out to stop her, laying his firm grip on her arm.

"Alistair, go make the exchange." The elf suddenly declared, much to the surprise of everyone in the immediate vicinity. Kallian looked like she'd been slapped, the other Knifers staring at the Wardens in horror. Had they really fought all this way just to be turned on now?

For his part, Alistair gaped like a fish for a moment then a stubborn look crossed his face. "Theron, this _is_ slavery we're dealing with here. Are you sure?"

Theron dug out his coin pouch in answer, handing it over to his fellow Warden. "Sure as I've ever been." He replied somberly, then whispered a single word to Alistair, a surprised look on the human's face when he heard it. Kallian saw what he'd said and it all clicked together for her. She'd have to apologize for thinking the worst of Basher later, but for now she had to keep looking distraught and angry.

Looking somber as a funeral, Alistair descended the steps toward the Magister, coin pouch in hand. Denailah's smile became more cat-like the closer that Alistair got, the envelop still in her hand. "I do hope that you become king." She said when he got close enough to hear. "You have friends with sense. That will get you far." She stretched out her hand for the coins just as Alistair took the envelope from her fingers. That close to the source, there was no time to react when the full force of a Smite suddenly rolled over her and dropped the magister to her knees with a scream of rage. The coin pouch fell on the ground, forgotten as Alistair scrambled to get his shield and sword out, tucking the envelope away in his armor before the first slaver ran forward to cover the Magister's prone body, the steel of his sword clashing with Alistair's thick armor.

In the next second Theron vaulted the banister and landed on the main floor, rolling to his feet with the momentum and in a quick dash forward had severed the knee tendons of the man attacking Alistair. The distraction gave the human Warden enough time to pull his shield onto his arm and get his sword ready for the onslaught, but before he could finish Denailah off, another slaver was there to cover her, swinging a broad bladed sword at Alistair's head in a move that would have nearly decapitated him if he'd been just a little closer.

Aedan was quick to arm himself, taking the stairs three at a time after Theron to quickly come to the aid of the Wardens, Keran dashing from the landing straight into the middle of the fray with a fierce howl. The war hound made for the archers standing just to the side of the magister, bowling one over with his teeth locked in the slaver's ankle. Aedan came to Alistair's side, diverting the path of the deadly two-handed blade meant for Alistair's neck and thrust his shield into the offending slaver's side. The added muscle was enough to unbalance the slaver with the giant sword, staggering backward under the weight of his own weapon when Aedan shoved him with his shield, following up the bash with a quick slash of his sword that had the man retreating even further back.

"Come on!" Kallian yelled over the sudden commotion, dashing down the stairs after Aedan, the Knifers recovering from their shock at the sudden turn more slowly than she'd like. If she hadn't seen Theron whisper the word 'Smite' to Alistair she'd be just as confused, but now was not the time to be understanding. They had a fight on their hands and it was going to get really ugly, really quickly. She confronted a shield bearing slaver who had been guarding the gates of one of the cages, deftly turning out of reach of his initial shield bash to poke holes in his leather armor, Sticker following fast on her heels to aid her, flanking the man so that he had an elf on either side and couldn't turn one way or the other without being gutted by one of them. The Knifers on the landing followed Theron's path, vaulting over the banister and coming to the Dale's aid as he was suddenly set upon by two more slavers and kept more than busy dealing with them with no time to worry about how Alistair was fairing.

The magister managed to escape the shuffle of bodies, her luxurious coat of feathers covered in dirt from the floor. She stared at the squabbling mass of what little remained of her hired hands, her rage bubbling over until she could barely see straight. These peasants wanted to ruin her plans, even after she'd had the good grace to try and cut a deal with these smelly dog lord flea-bitten mongrels? It was not ending like this. Not while she was still a mage.

Denailah withdrew the elaborate silver and pearl knife from its sheathe at her hip, a malicious grin curving her bright maroon lips. The letting of her blood was like a sigh of relief; the magic inherent in her veins stirring to life at her call and it enveloped her form. Clawed hands made of magic lashed out, reaching into the chests of her fallen mercenaries and drawing what little life force was left in their dying bodies, drawing them back to the source, fueling her magic. "You have dared to tamper with the whims of a Magister." Denailah cackled, raising her hands and the corpses of her fallen mercenaries stood on unstable legs, picking up their weapons to bear for her a second time. To her side she reached out, her fingers caressing the air, teasing the Veil open, ripping it with the pure force of her willpower and summoning a demon of Rage from the Fade, the molten body sliding into the realm of reality like puss oozing from a wound. "But this will be your final mistake!"

"It's the damned Circle all over again!" Theron hissed in displeasure, ending the life of one of the mercenaries by cutting open his throat, only to have the man return to un-life a few seconds later and resume the battle.

"Well look on the bright side! At least there are no abominations!" Alistair called with a small twinge of panic in his forced jovial tone. The Rage demon was attracted by the sound of Alistair's voice and slid toward him, the base of the creature leaving a bubbling trail of warped stone in its wake.

"How in the bloody Void do you kill a lava monster?" Kallian's panicked voice aired above the crowd as she dispatched one of the reanimated corpses, taking off its head for good measure so that it wouldn't come back to life a second time.

"With ice!" Theron replied, disengaging from his target and letting the two Knifers that had come to help his defense handle the shambling meaty corpse. He withdrew a small flask from his hip kit, checking the top with his fingers to make sure he had it right then threw the bomb across the room. It hit dead on target, splattering across the Rage demon, ice crystals forming over its liquid skin as the corrupted frostrock inside the flask exploded.

Alistair quickly took the momentary advantage that the freezing bomb created to slash and bash any part of the Rage demon he could get his sword or shield on, knowing that he only had a few seconds before the demon's natural heat would burn through the coating of frost and would start damaging his weapons. Kallian went to help and the creature screamed in agony, clawing at them in slow motion as it tried to overcome the biting coldness hampering its movements, the bright orange and yellow of its lava surface turned dark black where there frost had splashed over it. Alistair delivered a particularly powerful blow with his shield and the creature's arm cracked off, disappearing in a wisp of ash as soon as it hit the floor.

Seeing her demon being picked apart, Denailah screamed in frustration again, digging her knife into her palm. "I will not be ended here!" Her words were answered with a crackle of magic, the very air seeming to go brittle as her consciousness reached out, her fingers splayed like a puppet master guiding strings and took hold of them, subjugating everyone in the room to her will, laughing like a maniac the whole way. The screams of the elves in the cages quickly filled the room, their blood boiling in their veins when the magic touched them, completely without defense against the insidious magic. Kallian fell to the ground, her daggers clanging on the floor as she twitched violently, too much in pain to even scream. Her Knifers were much the same, clawing at anything in reach in a vain attempt to relieve some of the agony. Theron lasted longer, but he dropped to the ground as well on his hands and knees, gripping the handles of his weapons until his knuckles flushed bone white with the pressure, silently riding out the burning waves that assaulted him with every beat of his heart.

Alistair's face screwed up in concentration, resisting the mental pull of blood magic, the Chant of Light on his lips as he mustered his arms to bear against the magister, every step toward the mage an intense struggle. Aedan centered himself, pulling away from the irreverent whispering in his head just as the journal had said, concentrating on one thing and one thing only: This mage was going to die.

Denailah watched the two not-quite-Templars struggle against her, her maniacal laughing silencing instantly when she realized that they were successfully overcoming her mind control, their steps growing surer with every second that they remained upright and not writhing on the floor like the worms they were. "Why won't you _fall?_" She screeched, renewing her grip in the hope that it would ensnare the two as well. The elves in the cages screamed and whimpered louder, but the two men did not fall. She backed up, concentrating her magic on the two, but their steady walk turned into a run as they leveled their swords.

With a scream of frustration she summoned a powerful barrier, one that would turn aside any blade. But they kept coming and the cool wash of anti-magic suddenly burst from Alistair, the cleansing wave of power bringing down her barrier as if it had been little more than paper standing against a gale. The first blade skewered her straight through the stomach, the second through her heart, and she only got a last glimpse of their eyes before she died with a curse on her lips.

With the Magister dead the walking corpses dropped and the blood-boiling magic faded as soon as it had been inflicted, leaving the combatants who had been felled by it gasping for air when they suddenly had control of themselves again. Alistair trotted over and helped Theron to his feet, steadying the elf when he threatened to fall over. Keran managed to nose his way over the Kallian, helping the elf off the floor with a weary wag of his tail and Aedan knelt next to her as well, helping to lift her into a sitting position.

"I can check this off my list of things t'do before I die now." Kallian muttered, her voice scratchy and raw. She cleared her throat, looking at her downed Knifers. "You lot all right?"

"Sure thing, boss." Sticker replied weakly, rolling over on his back and dragging in a deep breath. "Never been better." She got similar assurances from the others, though with less sarcasm.

Once assured that everyone was still alive, Aedan looked around at the cages of elves against the wall, hoping to see Solona peering out at him, but there was still no sign of her. "Keran, can you find Solona? Is she here?"

The mabari whined, obviously not at all wanting to do anything more than sleep, but he wearily got to his feet and began working the floor, searching for any hint of their lost mage companion. Aedan gave Kallian a hand and she got to her feet unsteadily but once assured that she wouldn't fall over immediately waved Aedan off. "Go find Ammy." She said hoarsely, letting go of Aedan and eyeing Keran who was steadily working his way toward the grand doors that would lead out into the Denerim back streets. "I have to get these poor sods out of their cages." She offered a weak smile and gestured toward the cages behind her.

Aedan gave her a stiff nod and followed after his hound, leaving Kallian to pick open the locks and free her kinsmen. She turned to do just that, her world spinning briefly and walked to the nearest cage, picking the lock open and looking over the elves who were struggling to sit up after their blood magic encounter. Her heart was in her throat, but with a forced calm she crossed the room to open the other door. Theron was already there, twiddling with the lock and popped it open just as she walked over, the elves getting on their feet and stumbling out of the cage, using the bars to support themselves after the blood magic left them weak and drained of energy.

Kallian almost hit the floor, the feeling of overwhelming despair rising up sharply and claiming her when none of the faces that looked back were those of her father. Theron noticed the tremble of her knees and quickly moved to support her, lending his shoulder for her to grab.

The last to leave the cage was Valendrian, his face pulled down into a frown that quickly eased once he saw Kallian. "Tabris." He breathed quietly, stepping over the threshold of the cage and came within arm's reach of Kallian. "I never thought to see a friendly face again."

"Hahren." Kallian croaked, her throat suddenly desperately dry and she cleared it once, letting go of Theron to stand on her own once more, though he hovered just within reach. "I… we came as soon as we could. My father? Where is he?"

The old elf's silence was telling enough, his gaze growing immeasurably sad. "I'm sorry child. We all heard what happened in the estate and thought you had died. If we only would have known, your father might have held out longer but… between the plague and the Tevinters…"

"No…" The denial was only a whisper that left Kallian's lips, having no strength to properly vent around the lump growing in her throat. She took a step back, very nearly pitching backwards when her legs refused to support her weight and had to rely on Theron to keep her standing. After a moment she collected herself, closing her eyes for a long moment before opening them up again with a curiously blank expression on her face. "Then what's done is done." She hissed harshly and turned on her heel, trailing after Aedan who had disappeared along with Keran through a newly opened hole in the wall.

"Whoever you are, thank you." Valendrian said before Theron could go after her, stopping the Dalish up short. "All of us owe you our lives. Please, watch after her." The hahren of the city elves watched Kallian disappear into the dark square that led to a secret corridor off the side of the building, Theron's eyes following her movement. "She has been through much. Again, thank you." With a polite bow he turned to help the others that had been trapped in the cage with him to their feet and out of the building, obviously eager to leave their brief experience as slaves far behind them.

* * *

><p>These past couple of chapters are really just me indulging in Kallian badassery and working out some of the physical aspects of battles with mages and their demons. Please forgive me. I do love Kallian so, and since Solona had been behind bars, I had to fill the space with <em>someone<em>. I hope you KallixTheo shippers are happy with all of this interaction our beloved Dalish has had with my very favorite city elf. Laying paving stones~ (Is the official shipping name for Kallian+Theron Thelian? Kalron? I'll leave it up to you guys.) Also, yes, I really did use a Monty Python reference in this chapter.

Now, I know that I said chapter 50 would be a huge celebration of how awesome this story is, but I might have to renege on that a little bit. This chapter and the last one were supposed to be the same chapter, but as I kept writing, they kept getting longer and longer and loooooonger… So eventually I had to split the chapter into two parts, and even then they're still bigger than the average chapters I publish. So, depending on how much I can shove into chapter 50, we'll see if I can get my fun in or if it'll have to be delayed until chapter 51. Mah. Thanks you guys for sticking with it this long, I really appreciate it. Also, sorry for the long delay between chapters. I decided that I would update on Fridays instead of Mondays, so this just happened to be my switch over week. Back to weekly updates!


	50. Recovery

Okay, so a couple things. First, a tearful apology. My computer decided that it wouldn't let the screen work anymore, so I had to get that fixed. It's back to it's good old self now, thank god. Second, the awesome that _was_ going to be in this chapter was pushed back because of chapters 48 and 49 having to be split up due to their long-ness. My apologies! But I swear, next chapter for sure and we can move on to fun things! Like the aftermath of Kallian's father being stolen and Solona's fragile grip on reality! Sounds like fun, huh? I think it'll be fun. Again, I'm really _really_ sorry guys!

* * *

><p>"Solona!"<p>

Her eyes fluttered open, looking to the doorway of her cell to see a familiar figure there. A weak smile graced her face, barely a lift of the corner of her lips. He had come, finally.

Aedan knelt in front of her, his face wracked with such horror at seeing her condition. She wanted to tell him that it was going to be all right, to ease the look on his face, but her throat was terribly dry and she couldn't say anything, just whisper his name in her scratchy voice.

"I'll get you out of here, don't worry. But the chains…" Aedan looked on the very threshold of panic, testing the chains briefly to see if they would budge and was almost comically disappointed when they didn't immediately crumble to dust.

"The magister…has a key." She breathed, having seen it herself.

"There's no time for that." Aedan whispered back, touching the manacles that bound her bloodied wrists again, his expression pained. "Let me help you. You can break these."

Her heart sank, her throat closing off for a second as fear enveloped her for a moment. "She's not dead?" Solona asked, her voice trembling with terror. They would never make it out with the magister still alive. "You have to go! If she catches you-"

"I'm not leaving without you!" Aedan shot back quickly, fierce determination in his gaze. "You can break your way out. Just let me help you."

She furrowed her brow; the fear still beating at her but it was now tinged with wariness. "How did you get back here without the magister noticing?"

"Does it matter?" His tone reflected a certain amount of exasperation. "Just hurry, please! We can get out of here together."

_The cracks in the walls tore open then, the illusion of the cell surrounding her coming apart at the seams and Solona struggled against her bindings in vain. They were just as impossible to break out of here in the Fade as they were in reality. "Don't wear his face." She spat, her spirit flagging even though she had managed to breach the Fade. Solona was exhausted mentally and physically and could do very little to the demon to make it go away._

_The mask flickered, a tinge of purple showing through the flesh tones of Aedan's skin, and a smile curved the demon's lips. "But it is the face you desire the most, is it not? I didn't lie, love." The Fade beast leaned in close, trailing a hand along the curve of Solona's cheek. "The magister will come back for you. But I can help you escape this prison if you'd simply let me."_

"_I'd never-" Her refusal was cut off when the demon stole her breath in a kiss and it took her a moment to twist her head away with a frustrated cry. She tried to blast the beast, the shock of her spell doing little more than ruffle its hair and she spat a curse._

_From beyond the cell walls a whinny echoed through the Fade. The demon looked up wildly alert and one of the stone walls bust open, pelting the demon with flying chunks of stone, a burly horse with a mane of blue fire and eyes that glowed like lanterns standing in the newly created hole. The demon scrambled to its feet but couldn't avoid the horse as it reared and charged straight into the creature, carrying it through the opposite wall and out into the cracked dry plains of the raw Fade._

_Solona could only watch as the demon shed its guise, returning to its demonic form and launching a fireball straight at the charging steed. Before the spell hit the horse broke into shards of light that formed around a ball that glowed as bright as the sun, hovering in mid air before expanding and reforming into a gigantic warrior in spiked plate armor. The demon screamed in fury, launching every spell in its repertoire at the warrior, but ice shards and fire bolts just rolled off of its plated chest like water dripping on a rock. With a broadsword the likes of which could never be made real in the waking realm, the warrior moved like a mountain come to life, the great bulk of it coming down on the demon in slow motion that somehow happened instantaneously. The Fade was filled with the screams of the demon as it was shorn in half by the warrior's blade and then it simply disappeared in a burst of smoke._

_Its enemy defeated, the warrior turned toward Solona, its great sword disappearing in a flicker of light as if it had never existed at all. The closer it got, the bigger the warrior seemed until Solona was sure it would simply crush her out of existence until she was no more. Then the warrior glowed from within, disassembling into shards of light and reappeared as the familiar little bird she had come to know as Fortitude. It bobbed over to her hands, tapping the restraints around her wrists with its little beak and they crumbled into nothingness. Once that task was done the spirit floated down and perched on her knee. "It has been a while, mageling. I had begun to think that you would not be returning."_

_She rubbed her raw wrists, the pain that she felt in reality lingering even in the Fade. "For a while, I thought that too." Solona admitted sadly, her grip on magic fluttering to fullness without the demon there to inhibit her. She was surprised when the soothing blue of healing glowed from her hands, easing the ache of her various wounds. "I have my magic back!"_

_Fortitude cocked its head at her, blinking its beady little eyes. "So it would seem." The little bird fluttered up to her shoulder and butted its feathered head softly against the underside of Solona's chin, staying like that for a moment before hopping back. "I see. You have been through much while you were gone."_

_She didn't even question how the spirit would know. After all of the things she'd undergone in the magister's care, nothing surprised her. Solona didn't even know what was reality or Fade or a nightmare cast on her anymore. The blood magic that the Tevinters had at their disposal was not some rudimentary thing, and made her own skills look like a flailing child in comparison. Only her will had kept her from going completely insane, and even then she might not have succeeded in keeping her sanity together. Perhaps talking to Fortitude even now was just an illusion._

"_If I have my magic back, then I should probably wake up." She heard herself saying, though didn't particularly want to leave to contend with the reality beyond her dreamscape. "I could break these damnable chains."_

_Fortitude leveled a long glance at her, his beady black eyes piercing right down to her soul. "Do so with care." The bird mumbled in its deep voice. "If the magister I have seen in your memories still has a hold on you, then it will take all of your fortitude to overcome her. You have it in you, but you cannot despair."_

_Solona smiled and couldn't help the chuckle that escaped her. The spirit was always so __**sure**__. She envied its surety and wish that she could be just as confident that her willpower was enough to turn the tides against the monster that held her. "Thank you, Fortitude." Her finger brushed the delicate tip of the small bird's wing, trails of Fade mist following her motion. "You always say the right thing."_

"_This sounds like a farewell." Fortitude said suspiciously, puffing its feathers._

"_It might very well be." She replied sadly and then mustered her strength to stand, surprised when she wasn't incredibly lethargic. Fortitude took flight, bobbing around her head before settling on her shoulder as she walked out of the prison cell and into the raw Fade, drinking in the sight of the green skies and cracked earth. "I don't know what will await me when I wake. But if this is the last time I can see you, I just want you to know that I am glad that we met." She called to her consciousness and felt herself being sucked out of her dreams and pulled to reality._

•º•.•º•

Keran followed his nose to the hidden door in the wall and after figuring out that all that was needed was an application of force to push the panel into the narrow track to get it moving aside, Aedan found himself standing at the mouth of a dark hole in the wall. Keran stepped in without hesitation, leading the way with Aedan following close behind, the passage opening up once he was farther in and it quickly became apparent that the hidden hall was another holding cell, the cages only big enough for a single body. A single torch burned at the bottom of the stairs, casting weak light into the gloom of the short corridor and he picked up the single source of light, carrying it with him as hound and master walked forward. At the very end Keran stopped, his whining reaching a louder pitch and Aedan hurried forward, shining the weak light of the torch into the cell.

It was bigger than the rest, set deeply back in the wall, but it wasn't deep enough to conceal the solitary figure laying inside, propped up against the wall. Aedan's heart plunged and he almost dropped the torch when he recognized the blonde and brown mop of hair cresting the limp figure's head. Quickly he tried to sort out how to open the door and found that it was locked, but rusted. A swift jab from the hilt of his sword had the lock clattering to the floor, and he quickly put the torch in a small bracket in the wall, hurrying into the small cell. "Solona! By the _Maker_, what have they done to you?"

She stirred at hearing his voice, lifting her head weakly. "You came." Her voice was a whisper of sound, the smile on her face strained and distant. It took everything Aedan had in him to not break down at the pathetic sight she presented, her clothes ragged and torn, smears of blood on her face, wrists, and legs where her pants had been shredded. She was barefoot as well and sporting a large bruise that covered the majority of her left cheek and a swollen and cut lip.

"Of course I came." Aedan replied in a voice that cracked. Carefully he inspected the shackles that held Solona's wrists above her head and cursed. Her wrists had been rubbed raw, the caked on blood black in the dim light.

Behind him he heard footsteps and a gasp, and Kallian appeared in the cell doorway, her shadow falling against the wall. "Andraste's… damnit, _Ammy_."

"Can you do anything about the shackles?" Aedan asked quietly, too concerned with Solona's physical state to remark on the elf's lack of colorful profanity. Kallian nodded silently, drawing her lock picking tools and made quick work of the locks on the mage's wrists. When they clicked open her arms dropped to her sides with a grateful sigh. "It's going to be all right." Aedan carefully slid his arms around her, surprised by how light she was and could only wonder what the Magister had done to her in the few days she'd been imprisoned to make her look like she'd been starving for months.

Solona didn't make so much as a sound when Aedan picked her up and cradled her to his chest. She just leaned her head against the hollow of his shoulder and let her eyes drift closed. "Of course it will." She replied in a voice so quiet that only he could hear. "You're here now."

He wanted to murder the magister all over again in penance for bringing Solona to such a low state. In the end all he could do was shift the mage to a more comfortable position in his arms and walk her out of the damnable dungeon. "That's right. We'll get you back home and safe."

"My gallant knight." She smiled absently, too tired to do more than smile faintly. "I hope you're real." Her whisper was only loud enough that Aedan could hear, the words staring a small flare of panic in his gut.

"Then rest." He mumbled back, holding her tighter as if his physical presence would be able to ward off the demons that plagued her dreams. "You're safe now."

Solona smiled at him, and lifted her hand to his face, touching the plane of his jaw. When her fingers contacted his skin it felt like a jolt of electricity shot through him, and in that instant he could feel every bruise and cut throb painfully in sympathetic pain for the mage in his arms. She seemed to blink in surprise, her hand falling back down to lay across her stomach and tears filled her eyes. Her voice was only a whisper of a breath. "Aedan…" Suddenly she threw her arms around his neck and let out one shaking sob.

"It's going to be all right." He whispered against her ear, holding her more gingerly now that he was aware of just the extent of the damage that had been done. "I'll protect you." Solona's small sigh was the only indication that she had slipped away, lulled into a shallow sleep by her own exhaustion and the comforting tone of his voice.

When Aedan emerged back out into the crating room it was to see the elves gone, fled along with the majority of the Knifers. Sticker stayed behind, watching Kallian with a hooded gaze. The Wardens were checking over the room, ransacking it for anything useful and Theron held the envelope from the magister in his hand, smoothing out the wrinkles from when it had been hastily shoved into the protective shell of Alistair's armor and looked it over apprehensively. He glanced up from the paper when the three of them appeared, taking in the mage's state quickly before seeking out Kallian's downturned eyes. "Your companions headed back to the Alienage."

"That's fine." She replied tersely, her shoulders stiff and her face still caught in the peculiar emotionless mask. "Sticker-" He straightened slightly at her address of him. "-get out there and do some crowd control. We don't need a razing. Find anybody you come across an' grab 'em. Make sure the slavers are gone."

"Sure boss. What'll you do?" All his attention was on Kallian, watching the way she moved, quietly assessing what he could from the little she gave away.

"I'm going to go spread the good news." She replied with a forced grin that was very unlike the roguish smirks that she usually dished out whenever the occasion required. "Basher, I'll meet you at the estate. You good with Ammy?"

Aedan nodded, his jaw tightening. Keran barked as way of answering, wagging his stubby little tail. The group split then, Sticker going to the Alienage, the Wardens heading back to Eamon's estate and Kallian ran ahead of Aedan to get Rebecca ready to apply her motherly touch to Solona upon arrival. Aedan ignored the concerned looks he was shot upon entering the estate and staunchly ignored anyone offering to take the mage off his hands.

•º•.•º•

It had been a couple of hours since he'd handed Solona over and now he was taken to pacing outside her door worriedly. Rebecca had succeeded once in diverting him by demanding he go wash up and get on a set of clothes that weren't dripping sweat and blood, but that hadn't served to distract him for very long. He could see clearly the mottled bruise on Solona's cheek every time that he closed his eyes, the image of her looking so small and frail chained to that dungeon wall tugging at his heart and keeping him from being able to settle down for any length of time.

Fergus had visited with him for a while, gently asking questions and distracted Aedan enough that he had at least stopped wearing a hole in the floor with his pacing. When it became clear that there was very little that he could say to calm his brother down though, Fergus had left with a gentle reminder to be patient and left to talk to Eamon about their most recent political development that had unfolded with the capture of the trade manifest.

Finally the door opened and Rebecca slipped out, followed closely by Wynne. The elderly housekeeper gave Aedan a reassuring squeeze on his arm as she passed by. "She's going to be fine, young master." Her smile was warm when she flicked her gaze to Wynne and patted Aedan's forearm before heading off, her various other duties obviously calling her away from the scene.

Wynne lingered, pinning Aedan with a cool assessing look that immediately had him ready for a lecture. Something about the way that she composed herself reminded him painfully of Nan. In some distant recess of his mind he assured himself that there was no way Keran could have possibly gotten into the larder, as he had been out tearing up Tevinters all day.

"I've healed the worst of her wounds." The elderly mage began, but her tone was lined with steel. She obviously had more to say on the subject. "But there are certain scars that can never be erased, nor should they be. Do you know what she is?"

Aedan knew immediately what Wynne was talking about and straightened his shoulders at the quiet accusation. "A good person." He replied without hesitation, matching the steel in her voice with some of his own. "She's saved my life several times. I couldn't ask for a better woman to have my back."

Wynne's eyes narrowed by a fraction. "I don't think you understand the gravity of your situation."

"I think I understand it perfectly well." He replied with some heat. "I know exactly what she faces when she falls asleep, and I know what the bargain was that she struck. She did it to save my life." Aedan paused a beat to let the message sink in. "Not hers. Mine. That's a debt that I can't repay. She risked everything for me, and I could do no less. Whatever comes of this, we're in it together."

"You can't be so foolish as to risk this." Wynne replied in a curiously detached tone as if she were stating mere common fact and rocked back on her heels slightly, clasping her hands behind her. "Maleficar are already demon bound. It is not just your life that you are risking, but everyone here in this manor and in this city. Because of one girl, the horrors the likes of which you could never even _begin_ to imagine could be unleashed on this place, and there would be nothing that you could hope to do about it. Once a mage has given in to temptation, it is a sure sign that it will happen again. It is not a matter of if, but when. You must place your responsibility to those who look to you above your personal feelings, for there will no doubt come a time in which you will be forced to choose."

Aedan regarded the old mage carefully, meeting her eyes and going over what she'd said. It wasn't anything he hadn't heard before. "I have faith in her."

The simple reply had Wynne frowning. "It is dangerous to ignore the threat that she represents."

"I don't ignore it." Aedan replied, completely unfazed. "I trust in her to do the right thing, and she has yet to disappoint me. I've been to the Fade with her, and we've killed the demon that struck the deal with her. I've seen her struggle with the creatures, and yet she never gives in or gives up. Solona has more heart than you can even begin to comprehend. She doesn't shy from the reality of her situation; she deals with it. And so will I." He pinned the old mage with a dangerous glare, letting her know that he was absolutely dead serious. "I may not be able to protect her from the denizens of the Fade, but I can protect her from threats that come from this side of the veil. I have before, and I will again. So I suggest you choose very carefully which side of this fight that you'll be on, because if you're against Solona, then you're against me, and I will face anything- _anything-_ to make sure that she is safe."

Wynne appraised him silently, her quiet contemplating stare doing nothing to mitigate Aedan's returning harsh glare. "I think you're both dangerously misguided." She finally said and held up her hand for silence when Aedan looked on the verge of arguing. "Like it or not, the reality of the situation is that you are allowing not only a mage, but a maleficar unrestricted access to the minds of our country's leaders. I have no doubt that you are full of good intentions, but that will not be enough to stop her." Her eyes suddenly saddened, the steel gone out of her in an unexpected rush. "She has always been a bright girl. This is not where I thought she would end up. She could have had a good life in the Circle, perhaps even become the First Enchanter in time. But this…"

It was Aedan's turn to stop and appraise Wynne, taking in the sudden mood change. "She hasn't changed, Wynne. She didn't suddenly become evil. It was something that I failed to realize at first too, but Solona is the same. You just know her secret now."

"I wish I could believe you." It sounded like she truly meant it. Wynne folded her arms together and turned slightly to look at the door. "I can't help her again. This was the last time."

"I understand." Aedan muttered, glad that Wynne had even contributed as much as she had so far. "Just know that if the Templars come for her, they'll be getting more than what they bargained for." It wasn't a threat. It was a promise.

Wynne looked at him for a long moment before nodding once. "Be careful with her. I have healed all of her physical wounds, but there is simply no telling what has been done to her mind, and that is a wound that no magic can heal."

"Thank you." Wynne took her leave and Aedan quietly opened the door to Solona's room. The covers were pulled up to her chest, her arms were laying at her sides on top of the coverlet and she didn't so much as stir when he walked in. She was deeply asleep and far beyond being able to be disturbed by normal means.

Aedan knelt next to the bed at her side and gently touched the curve of her cheek, tracing the lines of her face and was relieved to see that the bruise was completely gone. Wynne's warning about her mental health echoed in his head though. What if this was one trial where her willpower simply couldn't overcome the obstacle?

He picked up her hand and placed a small kiss on the back of her knuckles. "Be well." He whispered, placing her hand back and finally allowed himself to contemplate trying for sleep.

•º•.•º•

Forcing herself out of a dream was like trying to surface from the bottom of a lake. Solona woke with a little bit of panic to spur her on, expecting at any second for the invading hands of the Magister to clamp down on her consciousness and wrestle her into another nightmare. All the rescues she had seen were an illusion, just the beginning of that woman's torture. When nothing happened to her she cautiously reached for her magic and found it all there, waiting for her to use it and unhindered for the first time in days. Cautiously she reached out, feeling her way through her surroundings in search of thoughts and wayward emotions that would indicate a person nearby. She found a single individual in the nearby vicinity; distinctly _male_ feeling but was so calm that she had trouble picking him out.

Slowly, she opened her eyes and saw light. Soft morning light that filtered through the wooden rafters of the ceiling to illuminate a complicated ballet of dust motes that hung effortlessly in midair, dancing around her head unfettered by such a trivial thing as gravity. Green draperies hung from the corners of the four-poster bed that she lay in, and that's when she realized that it was _her_ room at the Highever estate. Relief washed up to choke her, but she hastily put it down with a force of will. She still couldn't be sure that this was even real, that she had been saved and that one of her dreams among the many had actually come true.

Solona turned her head toward the morning light and saw that her window was occupied with the single entity she had sensed earlier. Aedan had taken up a post in the bay window at her side, lounging with a book in his hands and seemed rather intent on reading it. She must have made a noise when she shifted however because he looked up to meet her eyes.

With a broad smile he dog-eared the page and set the book aside, quickly sliding off the window ceil and came to kneel by her bedside. "Hey, it's good to have you among the living again." He reached out and placed the back of his hand against her forehead, checking for temperature and looked satisfied when there was none. "Your fever's gone. Wynne did what she could after we got you back. She was hopeful you might wake up today."

"Aedan…" Solona closed her eyes again, realizing for the first time that the constant burning in her wrists had gone away, along with any other number of twinges and aches that had been inflicted on her. The stiffness of her face had gone away as well, the painful bruise and cut lip she had gotten from one of the magister's henchmen healed as well. But if Wynne had seen to her, then she had no doubt seen the scars as well. "What does Wynne know?"

Aedan hesitated a moment, sitting back on his heels. "I talked her down. She wanted to turn you in, but I made her agree to keep her silence."

She wondered what exactly had been said in that conversation to make the old mage agree to such a thing. Solona knew that her former teacher was a strongly traditional mage that despised blood magic and believed in the protection of the Templars and the Chantry, much like Solona had before they had become her enemy. She shook her head as if to clear her mind of the thought, trusting Aedan with the issue for now. "The magister?"

"Dead." Aedan replied quietly. "And with her the last slave ring in Denerim."

"I'm sure Kallian was pleased to have an end to it." She sighed, smiling despite herself. It was a huge relief to hear that the magister was dead, and she hoped it had been painful.

Aedan's silence caused her to second-guess her statement, however. "Kallian's father… was one of those taken before we could put a stop to the trades."

Solona flicked her gaze to Aedan's face, reading the sorrow there easily for their mutual elf friend. "After all of that… Oh Kalli…" The next time she saw her, Solona was going to be sure to give Kallian a dedicated block for shoulder crying in quiet. "Where is she now?"

"In the Alienage." Aedan replied. "With her cousins. Not everything was lost to her, but she took the news hard. The Denerim elves have all returned home and they've been holding funerals and parties in turn for the past couple of days."

She could imagine that the bittersweet homecoming would keep on for days. "What about Alistair? Is he okay?" She didn't remember the would-be prince being taken separately from her, only that he had been in firing range when the magister had downed her.

"He's back to his plucky self." Aedan replied with a smile. "Right now the Wardens are pulling strings and making deals with my brother. You've woken up just in time to get swept up in the Landsmeet madness."

She smiled weakly at that, shifting slightly so that she could sit up. Aedan held her arm and helped stuffing some of the pillows behind her back to make it easier. "Are you ready for it? We never planned on having Howe dead before you petitioned for your title."

"Fergus' title." Aedan corrected gently. "I'm as ready as I think I'll ever be. We have support from all the Banns of Highever and a handful from Amaranthine. It's enough to give the Landsmeet pause to argue about Fergus taking the title of Teyrn. It's in two days. Do you think that you'll be able to come?"

Solona paused, biting her lip and considered. She knew that Aedan was deliberately avoiding the point of him murdering Howe and how that act would be received by any enemies he had in court. After near a year of scheming, she knew enough of politics to deduce that much. She took quick stock of herself, judging how worthy she would be to reentering society. Wynne had done a good job of patching up the damage the magister had done to her body in the quest to break her spirit, and she seemed flushed of the magebane that had crippled her magic. Physically, she was still on the weak side and who knew what all the blood magic performed on her had done to her own connection to the Fade, but she wasn't going to miss the Landsmeet. Not when the Arls and Banns might decide that they wanted Aedan's head. "I think I'll be well enough to attend."

Aedan hesitated, searching Solona's face and found something there that gave him pause. "What happened?"

She hesitated to say. The magister was dead. Or so this Aedan had said. But this could all be an elaborate dream, though by far the least violent. Her mistrust in what was reality and what wasn't was a wound that no version of Wynne would ever be able to heal.

He saw her tense up and picked up her hand. "Do you want to talk to Kallian?"

"No." She surprised herself with the rapid answer, and Aedan too if the taken aback look he was giving her was anything to judge by. Carefully she reached out to touch the plane of his cheek, day-old stubble scratching at the pads of her fingers. "Just tell me if this is real or not."

She saw the look of despair flash over his face before he could cover it up, felt the rapid beat of his heart and the denial that he struggled against in quiet, unaware that she was privy to his every emotion so close like this. Someone had probably warned him that she would be damaged beyond what they could physically see, and he had probably been hoping that it wouldn't be true. Aedan placed his hand over hers gently and brushed a kiss against her palm along one of her more prominent scars. Solona feared where the gesture was going, readying herself for an assault from a desire demon, but nothing else happened.

"This is real." He said in a low voice and held her hand between his own, lightly tracing her knuckles with his calloused thumbs. "And I'll do whatever it takes to make sure you can believe that."

Solona nodded and tried not to cry at the sincerity of his tone, the utter honesty she _felt_ radiating from him. The relief that had been held at bay for so long suddenly came crashing to the fore again, and despite her best efforts she felt herself tear up. With a deep breath to try and lift the weight that had suddenly settled on her chest, she wiped at her eyes with a shaking hand. "Is it lunch yet?"

His answering smile was reassuring and he patted her hand gently. "I'll go get you something to eat. Now that all of Denerim isn't living in my basement, Rebecca hardly knows what to do with herself."

She couldn't help but to smile at that and brushed away another tear that was trying its best to escape. It was easy to imagine that the housekeeper suddenly becoming distraught with a half empty house after being so used to taking care of a small society. "I trust I'll be in good hands between the two of you."

"We'll have you up to shape in no time at all, don't worry." When Aedan opened the door Keran bounded in and took his place, leaping on the bed and settled himself with his broad head under Solona's hand and lay out along her side with a content groan.


	51. Converging Paths

Okay, so this chapter is going to wrap up several things so that we can move on to stuff that's plot important, like the Landsmeet! I hope you enjoy the chapter, and this is definitely a reward for you guys that have been hardcore shipping of couples throughout the long story and hiatus. Thanks for sticking it out! I really appreciate all of you, even the lurkers. Also, just as a **warning**: There's some strong language about half way through the chapter, and I seriously considered turning the rating of this story from T to M. In the end however, I decided that if "X-Men: First Class" could keep a PG13 rating while Wolverine dropped the F-bomb, then I could keep this story T. If you think differently, please send me a message or leave a review and I'll take it under advisement. I seriously don't want to get booted this late in the game, and I doubt you guys want to see this story disappear either. With that in mind, read on and cheers to you all~

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><p>"Ah, it's good to see you up and about again."<p>

Solona turned to see Fergus in the doorway wearing a set of dark blue noblemen's finery minus some key items, like he had just walked in the door and was getting ready to turn down for the night. Dressed like the nobility he was, Solona had the sudden intense urge to bow but restrained herself to a polite nod. "You're looking very nice Fergus. If the Landsmeet didn't recognize you before, they're sure to tomorrow." By comparison she felt like an under-dressed peasant, which she was when it all boiled down really. With the Landsmeet looming on the horizon tomorrow, she was starting to feel more and more nervous. It had been enough time since her encounter with the magister that she was steady on her feet, but the abuse she had suffered had left her sensitive to emotions. She didn't even have to prick her finger to feel the thoughts of others brushing up against her mind, so she had been avoiding everyone until she could get everything under control again. Even Fergus' mild sense of indecision was clear as day to her, the feeling radiating from him in waves that she could do little to ignore.

"Unfortunately, half the battle in politics is all about appearances." Fergus replied with an absent smile, seeming to be thinking something over. He took a small step back and gestured down the hall. "Would you walk with me a bit?"

She was curious and slightly wary, but eventually her curiosity won out and she stepped out into the hall with him. "Is something the matter?" He didn't seem to have any deeply buried feeling of malicious intent, though after a few weeks of getting to know him, she would have a hard time believing that the gentle-natured man could wish her any ill will unless she specifically intended to harm Aedan.

"Oh, no." Fergus replied with a smile that was more genuine, his amusement flickering to life. "Nothing dire. I've just had a long time to think about a lot of things. After all I have been through and all of the things my brother has seen and done… Well, there's a lot of ways that tomorrow could go wrong." They were heading for the second floor now and Solona started becoming even more curious, trying to not eavesdrop on Fergus' emotions and instead concentrated on walking up the stairs. "Whatever the outcome is, I hope that you'll remain at my brother's side. I think… that he would be a very different person if you hadn't been there to support him."

Stunned was not a strong enough word. Solona felt she got on amiably enough with Fergus, though she knew that he only tolerated her presence because Aedan was such a staunch protector. To hear him _thank_ her was almost surreal. "I-I don't know what to say…" She knew he was being honest; she could feel it.

They were upstairs now and heading for the family living quarters. Fergus opened a door to a room that Solona had never seen touched in the days she had spent at the estate. It was a bedroom furnished very much like Aedan's, and she realized that it must have been Fergus' room before the betrayal. Despite having been untouched for months, the room was dust-free. Solona guessed that Rebecca had seen to making sure that the place was clean if either of the Cousland brothers saw fit to use it.

"I wanted to thank you for what you've done." Fergus said and walked in the room, quiet sadness clinging to him and playing across his features, though the deep heartache he felt could not be hidden from the mage. Solona hesitated at the door, watching Fergus walk to a large oak wardrobe and open it, looking at whatever was inside then gesturing for Solona to come join him. "I think that after all is said and done, you have earned a place with my house several times over. The Couslands take care of their own, and if you would like, then I would have you continue to stand at my brother's side. Not as an outsider, but as one of us." He stepped aside to let Solona see what was in the wardrobe, and she gasped in surprise.

They were gowns, in all colors and styles and made of very high quality material. She blinked, disbelief plainly on her face and gaped at Fergus. "You want me to wear one?"

He nodded, seeming to get some amusement out of her surprise. "If you are part of the Cousland house, then you must bear the burden with a certain amount of dignity and honor. A proper outfit goes a long way in that direction. The rest… well, you've already proven you're quite capable, I think."

Slowly, Solona reached out to touch one of the dresses, an amber and brown color like the leaves of fall. "I… I don't know what to say. Thank you."

"It will be thanks enough for me when Aedan sees you in one of these. I've convinced him to leave you well enough alone in your choice of wear for tomorrow's event, though if he could, he would have done this first." He grinned and took Solona's hand in one of his own, brushing a courtly kiss across her knuckles. "Thank you for watching over him when I could not." He patted her hand and left the room, leaving Solona with the wardrobe.

•º•.•º•

The Alienage drew him back like a moth to a flame, and Theron couldn't even begin to understand why. He hated this place. The helplessness of the elves swamped him upon stepping foot over the bridge. The stark squalor of the buildings and streets that stood in rickety rows spoke of the rampant poverty that bred here. Yet Theron could not keep away.

It was dark, the sun having set an hour ago and he was the only soul on the streets. Everyone seemed to be inside, either mourning or celebrating the return of the elves that had been captured and the loss of those that weren't saved. He followed the cobble road to the center of the Alienage where the Vhenadahl stood and approached the ancient tree reverently. He placed his hands on the rough bark, tracing its contours gently, the tiniest of smiles breaking his grim visage.

"The hahren doesn't like it when strangers touch our tree." A voice called from above him and Theron looked around to see who was talking. It took him a moment, but eventually he spotted a figure laying on one of the thick lower branches, a leg dangling over the side casually. "They say that the tree's alive or some such, watches over us elves. Pah!"

His brows furrowing in confusion, Theron stepped back to get a better look at the speaker. "Kallian?"

"Correct ser!" She giggled drunkenly, swinging her legs over the side of the branch to face Theron, a bottle in her hand. "Though I s'pose you'd know more 'bout trees and the like, eh?" She took a pull from her bottle, disappointed when it was empty and jumped down from the branch, tossing the bottle aside. By the way she swayed it was obvious that she was intoxicated. "Oy! Fairy boy! Draw!"

Theron remained puzzled and unsure how to react to that until Kallian drew her blades from her boots and attacked him with a wild ferocity that he would have thought entirely impossible for her to pull off in her intoxicated state. It took all of his skill to not be ripped apart by her daggers, the small biting blades slipping through his defenses with a startling amount of frequency.

As the fight went on however, her precision attacks became broad sloppy ones, her expression had changed from a cocky grin to one filled with anguish and her blade work quickly turned desperate. It didn't take much to disarm her, sending one blade clattering to the dirt when she attempted a reckless overhead swing and Kallian overbalanced without her weapon. Theron swept her legs out from under her and she landed on her backside with a yelp. He kicked her remaining dagger out of her hand for good measure, but the fight had left her. She lay on the ground, staring at the sky from her place on the ground and didn't even so much as twitch when Theron sheathed his swords and knelt next to her.

"What's gotten into you?" He growled, fearing for her sanity. "Have you lost your mind?"

Kallian was silent for a long moment, and finally took a deep inhale of breath. "I just wanted to fight someone who knows what it's like t'lose everythin'."

"Kallian…" Theron sighed and sat down next to her in the dirt, crossing his legs and draping his wrists over his knees. "You haven't lost everything, lethallan."

Her eyes flicked to his face, preparing to be offended. "What did you just call me?"

A smile twitched at the corner of his lips. "Friend."

Kallian was confused for a moment, and then turned to quiet acceptance and her gaze slid back to the skies. "I don't usually condone pity parties." Came her gruff response after a moment of silent contemplation.

"I'm not pitying you." Theron muttered in response. "Grieving for your father is your right. But remember you still have family and friends, and a community that will be there for you. You've saved many of your people, lethallan. Be proud of that."

She guffawed, but it lacked heart. "I couldn't save my da." She said quietly, and Theron was sure that she was on the verge of tears. "This whole time he thought I was dead. They all did. Damnit…" She squeezed her palms over her eyes and bit her lip, the alcohol affecting her ability to keep her stubborn sarcastic mask in place. "And now he's on some boat, a slave. Maker_ why?ˆ"_

Theron was silent. He had no comforting words for her. Eventually Kallian dropped her hands back on the dirt, her eyes watering but no tears fell. "Soris an' Shianni 'ave been pussy footin' 'round me all day. I'm sick of it."

"Do you want to come back to the estate?" He asked before giving himself proper time to think about the offer. Kallian made it easy on him though, shaking her head no.

"I wanna do something." She said and sat up, struggling on wobbly legs to stand. Theron got up and offered her a helping hand, but she still swayed even when gripping his shoulder with both hands. "Lets go rob somebody. I haven't robbed anyone in days."

"You can barely walk a straight line and you want to steal something?" Theron asked, incredulous. How could she possibly think this was a good idea?

"Yeah." Kallian replied, undeterred and let go of Theron, picking up her daggers and re-sheathing them in her boots with surprising surety. "Maybe go knock over a caravan or something. Tip some cows. I dunno, something."

Tip cows? This was definitely the alcohol talking now. Kallian was going to turn into a walking menace if he left her to her own devices. "Let's start with a walk and see if you can hold your feet."

She cocked a befuddled look at him. "Why would I hold my feet?" She asked, completely serious. "I mean, s'not like I can't. I'm pretty bendy. But it's hard to walk all bent over like this-" Kallian proceeded to reach down and grab the toes of her boots in demonstration.

Theron did his best not to sigh in exasperation. This was exactly why he didn't drink. But Kallian was on to bigger and better things and started walking down the street with a slight wobble in her walk. "Need to pave these damn roads!" She shouted to no one in particular after tripping over thin air. "Crooked as the Void! Blast, who put this Maker forsaken barrel in the middle of the road? Sodding Blighters!" The barrel was not in fact in the middle of the road, but she kicked it anyway to teach it a lesson and continued on her warpath through the Alienage.

Theron caught up to spot her just within arm's reach, afraid that she would fall over at this rate. Howe she had fought so well before was now completely beyond him. "Where do you think you're going?"

"To the bloody Chantry!" Kallian replied much louder than was necessary. "This is all their damn fault!"

Though Theron had to agree that the Chantry didn't seem much good for anything, he wasn't seeing the immediate connection. "Their fault for what?"

"All of this!" She shouted, gesturing wildly with her arms flailing in the air unhelpfully. "Bloody Arl's fucking son comes in here screwing everyone over! But does the _Maker _do anythin' 'bout it? Noooooo! No he sodding DOESN'T! Too busy screwing Holy damn mother bloody Andraste in his pretty little Fade palace. Well SCREW THAT! I'm gonna go give those holy mothers a piece of my damn mind. Right. NOW. And their stupid Templars in their stupid shiny armor can shove their gloves up their asses if they think they can stop me!"

He was certain that Kallian would have woken up most of the Alienage by this point, yelling at the top of her lungs like this. But the elves seemed too entrenched in their own dealings to give any notice to a lone ranting elf on the street raising a ruckus. They were already at the bridge, Kallian apparently intent on stomping her way over to the closed gates as fast as her inebriated state would allow. "You're really planning on knocking down the Chantry doors in the middle of the night?"

"Damn straight I am." Kallian snarled and tried unsuccessfully to shove the gates open. When that didn't work she rolled her shoulders and leapt, grabbing one of the reinforcing horizontal wooden beams and started climbing.

Theron only had a couple of seconds to worry about her falling down and breaking her neck when she slipped and fell backwards, nearly taking him down with her. Theron barely caught her before she hit the cobblestones, and once she'd recovered from the shock of falling Kalian started weakly struggling to get out of his arms. "Leggo!"

"Not if you're just going to try and get yourself killed again." Theron replied, holding her down with his greater strength. "Just stop a minute!"

"I can't!" Kallian wailed and gave one last pull before slumping with her back to Theron's chest, limp. "If I stop, I think." Her voice was tight and bordering on a sob. She shuddered in his arms, the emotions threatening to break through. "I can't-"

He never saw the tears that Kallian shed; he only felt the wet drops on his forearm. "Let's get you home, lethellan." He said quietly and released her.

Kallian nodded silently, keeping her face averted and started walking back the way she'd come but stumbled again and nearly pitched face first into the ground. With a concerned frown Theron walked in front of her. "I'll carry you back." Apparently she was too beside herself to argue and climbed on, burying her face between her arm and Theron's neck, silently shuddering with sobs as the Warden carried her home and turned her over to a pair of worried cousins that quickly saw her to bed.

•º•.•º•

Solona stared at the knapsack on her bed, half full of clothes. Next to it were a couple of small bottles with liquid lyrim in them, an empty water skin and a couple of extra pairs of shoes. It was all she owned in the world, and she was trying to decide how best to carry it all. Or did she want to carry it at all? The debate had been raging in her head for the better part of the day.

To stay, or to go?

Her head told her to flee. Denerim was crawling with Templars. It made no sense to stay here, broken phylactery or otherwise. Plus, she was putting everyone else in danger by remaining here. Surely the deadly goose chase she had cut across Ferelden had earned her a spot on the top of the Templar's wanted list. If she stayed in place for too long, rumors and hearsay would eventually lead them straight to her. The Mage's Collective might be able to get her passage out of Ferelden, or at least started in the right direction.

Her heart, on the other hand, was strongly rebelling at the very thought of even so much as leaving the city. Everything she had worked for was here. Kallian would be devastated if she suddenly went missing without even saying goodbye, and Solona didn't even want to contemplate Aedan's reaction. Even Fergus seemed to have accepted her role here and had welcomed her into the fold. Her head tried to tell her heart that the price of her freedom was to constantly be on the run, but her heart wasn't going to be hearing any of it and the two sides stubbornly continued to tear her in opposite directions.

Keran trotted by the door, pausing at Solona's room and made his way in, brushing past the partially closed door. He came to her side, putting his paws up on the bed and gave a soft woof.

She smiled, patting the dog's broad head. "I don't suppose that you could tell me what to do, could you boy?" The mabari grumbled, his tail wagging once. She smiled sadly and then started packing in the vials of lyrium. "Go on boy, get yourself a squirrel or something." Keran grumbled at her disapprovingly, then got his paws off the bed and trotted back out into the hall, leaving her alone once more.

With a sigh Solona unpacked her stuff again, her heart winning out briefly in the silent argument she was having with herself before her brain rallied and she stared packing again, arranging it differently to try and make the lyrium accessible but less likely to break. She repeated this process several times, completely absorbed in the task while she turned over her options in her head, planning escapes, what she would say if anyone saw her leaving.

"Taking a trip?"

Solona whirled around, finding Aedan in her doorway, leaning against the frame with a neutral look on his face. He seemed unbothered by what he was seeing, though she felt her heart sink, knowing it was probably just a cover. Sensitive as she was to emotions, she couldn't feel his, indicating that he probably had a tight reign on his feelings lest they get the better of him. She winced, sitting down on her bed among a pile of half-folded clothes. "I don't know." Keran appeared at the door, looking guilty, and Solona hoped that the mabari could read her mind when she called the dog a traitor.

"I see." His eyes flicked over the gear piled on her bed then invited himself in, standing just over the threshold. "I don't suppose I could make any suggestions to sway you to stay."

A pained smiled crossed Solona's face, and she picked up one of the lyrium bottles, tracing the waxed top with her fingers. "I don't even know if I want to leave." She admitted quietly, picking absently at a piece of the melted wax. "But I don't know if it would be right to stay."

Aedan crossed the short distance between them, moved aside some of her stuff and sat next to her on the bed, leaning his elbows on his knees. "You know I want you to stay."

"I do." She whispered back and then set the bottle on the floor, picking up the second one and placing it by the first. "But that's also part of the reason I think I should go. We can't… I don't think you want me to stay for…the right reason."

Aedan frowned at that, threading his fingers together. "I actually thought there were several good reasons that I wanted you to stay." He replied, for the first time letting his annoyance show throw his carefully neutral tone. The tight wall he had around his emotions cracked enough for her to sense the anger broiling just beneath the surface, though it was gone as quickly as it came. "For one, you're damn good to have around in a pinch. Secondly, Kallian would gut me if you left. And third," he reached over and took her hand gently, his voice dropping low. "I love you. _All _of you." His thumb rested on the crest of a particularly vivid scar, a recent one on her wrist she had been unable to completely erase after her brief time as a prisoner.

Her heart hammered in her chest, a flurry of butterflies suddenly deciding to take flight in her stomach. She knew she was blushing but couldn't help it and looked down, gently drawing back her hand. "That's what I was afraid of."

Aedan stared at the side of her face for a few moments, then stood and closed the door, taking to pacing the length of the bed. "Would it make you feel better if I said that I was a monster too?"

Solona looked up sharply, obviously confused. "What are you talking about?" She couldn't get a read on him, try as though she might.

A bitter grin tugged at the corner of his lips in response. "I'm just like him." He gestured vaguely in the general direction of the wall. "Like Howe. A murderer. I was so happy to see him dead, I _enjoyed_ killing him." He turned away from her, resuming his pacing and the cork began to leak, the bitter regret of his actions only just a few days ago warring with the dark satisfaction of having claimed brutal justice. "I've done exactly what Howe did. Murdered any bastards in my way for his title. He had three children; all of them were my friends. What will they think now, their father lying dead in the dungeon where I left that swine to rot? They'll come after me, I'm sure. When does the cycle end? When all of our heirs lie dead? Or does it go past that?"

Solona was left speechless. Her encounter with the magister had left her sensitive to the emotions of others even without drawing blood, and the more Aedan talked the more vivid they became, turning from a small trickle to a full flood. She felt like she was drowning, swallowed by the soul-consuming guilt that had been unleashed on Aedan with the downfall of his greatest foe. Tears fell unbidden from her eyes and she wiped them away quickly, standing and stopped Aedan mid-step, touching his face gently, surprising him with the action. He stood still, letting her press her palms lightly to his jaw and held him so that he would look at her. "You are _nothing_ like him." She whispered, her tone indicating a steadfast resolve that elicited the smallest of smiles from Aedan.

But he was not going to be swayed so easily. Not until his point was thoroughly made. "How?" He asked with a hint of bitterness, rising to his full height and pulling his face from her hands with the motion. "Tell me how I'm not like him. I slaughtered him in his own home. You saw it. It wasn't a quick death. I _wanted_ him to suffer. I _enjoyed _watching him die. I hope he finds no peace in the Void, that some demon will find his soul before he reaches the Maker and it rips him apart. How am I so different?"

Solona let her hands drop, but she still stood strong, refusing to be cowed. She hurt to see him this way, tearing himself apart with guilt. If she had not been trying so desperately not to be overwhelmed she might have noticed that he was holding something back, but as it was it was all she could do to keep her head above water. Howe's death had not been a graceful one, she couldn't deny that. The way Aedan had dispatched him was a painful and slow way to die, but now the vengeance was done. She took a breath to steady herself and straightened her shoulders. "He wouldn't have felt guilty afterwards." She said quietly, trying to catch his eyes. "He was a coward, and what he did to your family was slaughter. You faced him fairly with no tricks or pretenses of friendship. He knew _exactly_ what was happening when you broke through that door, there was never any question about it. By all accounts, he got what he deserved. Never doubt that you are the better man Aedan."

"He was a hero once." Aedan replied, his voice deceptively quiet though it cracked slightly with wavering emotion. "He was a good man once, then time changed him and now look at what he's become. Traitor to his country, betrayer of his friends, his reputation ruined and life put to end at the blade of someone he hated most. How long is it until I do that? Until I decide that his children need to die as well?"

"Stop!" She reached out and touched his arm, Aedan very nearly jumping out of his skin at the contact and looked at her hand like it was some strange alien thing. With a deep breath she had to get control of herself, realizing that she had let some of her control of her magic slip, enough that he would have noticed the touch of the Fade. "Stop it! Aedan, you'll never turn into him. _Never_. You're so much stronger, so much better and honest and… and I won't let you."

"Won't let me?" He asked, touching Solona's hand. "Like I won't let you give up on yourself? It's going to be hard to stop me if you're on the other side of Thedas."

Belatedly, Solona realized that he had her beat there, her own compassion working against her. He had maneuvered her right into the corner that she needed to be in. Her hesitation to come up with a witty reply gave Aedan the opportunity to pull Solona into the cradle of his chest and brush a kiss against the mage's lips. She stiffened in surprise but did not resist, letting him have his moment before pushing away enough to look him in the eye.

"Aedan, don't." Her voice was barely a thread of a whisper.

"Why?"

She had been afraid that one day he would return her feelings, but as much as she had feared it she had craved it, ached to feel in real life what the demons of the Fade had promised her. Now here he was, setting aside who they were for the chance of a moment's happiness. That ache she had buried firmly under layers of restraint reserved for resisting Fade demons had come roaring to the forefront of her mind, almost becoming a physical need. "Because-" Her eyes flicked to the door briefly. She knew that she could run. He was honorable enough not to chase her down. But as her eyes wandered his face and took in all the emotions present on the surface, displayed so readily, she couldn't leave him. Not like this.

"Because," Her breath hitched in her throat. "-there's stuff all over my bed. I've got to move it off before you wrinkle all my clothes."

Aedan was so surprised that he actually chuckled, planting a wild kiss on Solona's lips. "Can't have wrinkled clothes. Whatever would you do?"

"Cry, I'm sure." She replied with a giggle of her own, relieved beyond words that the tension had been broken. She could feel it in his chest when she ran her hands over the front of his shirt, reaching up the play with the fringes of his hair at the back of his neck. Slowly she pulled his head down, initiating the kiss this time.

The dam broke then, all of the carefully cultured restraint that Aedan had honed finally broke and he pushed Solona against the wall. She gasped at his sudden ferocity but didn't resist, her back pressed solidly against the stone and she traded a fiery kiss for one of his, stealing her breath away. His emotions went wild, and tears pricked the back of her eyes at what she felt, the overwhelming love and lust radiating from him quickly overtaking her conscious train of thought until there was very little left but answering desire.

Her hands splayed against the thick muscles of his shoulders, standing on tip toe and arching into his kisses. He tugged at her bodice and she was quick to do away with the interfering piece of clothing, the tips of her fingers burning hot enough to sear through the lacing in back. Aedan's calloused hands made short work of her dress and it joined the bodice on the floor, leaving her in a thin slip that was hardly any protection from their shared heat.

Her last coherent thought as Aedan stripped off the slip was that Kallian had better not be on the other side of the door listening, or there would be hell to pay in the morning.


	52. The Landsmeet

So, here it is. The Landsmeet. The Big One. The Beginning of the End. The Point of No Return. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I liked writing it. I switched some things up, especially concerning Alistair's role in all of this, but I wanted to make sure that he still kept in character. I hope I've accomplished that. Thanks for all the support thus far; I've really enjoyed having you guys along for the ride. Onward ho!

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><p>Kallian felt gritty and raw the next morning when she woke up at the crack of dawn, her pounding headache serving as a reminder of just how much she had drunk the night before. Careful not to wake Shianni she disentangled herself from her cousin's sleeping death grip and padded to the kitchen in the next room over and quickly made a concoction of lukewarm tea (more like slightly bitter leaf water, really) and a drop of alcohol. Once she had downed that she put on her boots and headed out into the Alienage to join the early morning crowd going to work. Ammy would have something to get rid of the headache, and after only running into one dead end she made her way to the ritzy part of Denerim and entered the familiar gates of the Highever estate, waving a quick hello to the gate guard who watched her trudging approach with a curiously raised brow, but didn't comment on the elf's ragged appearance.<p>

Once inside she was accosted by Keran who trotted out of the next hall over and barked cordially at her, which sent her head to pounding even worse than before. "Easy boy." She hissed at the war dog, rubbing her temples. "Aunt Kalli has a massive headache." Keran whined and lowered his head as if to say he was sorry. She forgave him, but only because he was so damned cute.

But Keran was not finished with her yet and quickly put his big slobbery mouth around her thin wrist and tugged her toward the hall with a soft woof. Slightly disgusted, Kallian drew her wrist back and wiped the slobber off on her pants as best she could. "It's too early for this mutt."

Keran whined and tugged at her belt for good measure then turned and started walking, his stubby little tail wagging as he trotted on ahead, stopping a few feet in front of her to look over his shoulder, obviously wanting to be followed. Heaving a sigh, Kallian followed the mabari, glad that the dog was leading her in the vicinity that she wanted to go anyway. He stopped outside of Solona's door with a whine and patiently waited. For all the intelligence in the world, he simply couldn't open a door without thumbs.

Kallian sighed and shook her head, opening the door without bothering to knock. "Ammy, sorry to but you but have you got any-" She paused, dumbstruck with her mouth hanging open. Solona stared back, horrified and wearing nothing at all, straddling an equally naked and surprised Aedan. The three stared at each other in awkward silence before Kallian finally snapped her jaw shut. "Right. Sorry to intrude." Then she simply shut the door.

Solona had never gotten dressed so fast in her life.

In a scramble of limbs and bed sheets she half fell, half vaulted off the bed and grabbed the first article of clothing she picked up, which just happened to be Aedan's pants and threw them on like demons were on her heels. "Kallian!" She yelled through the door and tossed on a shirt, sprinting out the door after the elf, following Kallian's maniacal laughter down the hall. "Kallian! KALLIAN! Get BACK here!"

After a mad dash through the estate Kallian only allowed Solona to catch up with her outside in the maze garden, laughing so hard that she had to hold herself up by holding onto on to the gazebo's support legs. Solona, flushed from running and embarrassment, tried to look very stern. "Couldn't you have at least _knocked_?"

Kallian took a moment to catch her breath. "Glad I didn't, honestly."

"Kallian!" Solona hissed, which only made the elf dissolve into a fit of giggles all over again, her headache completely forgotten in the wake of this new development.

"Aah, Maker's balls Ammy, I've been waitin' a long time to catch you two knocking boots." With a great effort Kallian got a hold of herself and wiped at the tears in her eyes from laughing so hard.

"You _can't_ tell anyone." Solona whispered, looking around sharply to make sure that they were alone. "Even if… he's still nobility, Kallian. Even if Fergus is taking the title now."

"Pdfft! Ammy, honestly, who am I going to tell?" Kallian asked with a grin. "Well, maybe Sticker-"

"Kallian!"

The elf laughed at Solona's distressed tone. "Yer secret's safe with me Ammy." She assured in a far more sincere tone. Then she got a mischievous gleam in her eyes. "So, when are the babies coming?"

Solona went wide-eyed. "Blessed Andraste! There will certainly be no _babies!_"

Kallian snorted. "Oh please. I seriously doubt you two are goin' to exactly be _chaste_ now that you've done the naughty dance."

Solona flushed red. "Well, no, but there are…ways… to keep from having children. They teach us in the Circle."

"Well that IS disappointing." Kallian sighed and leaned her hip against the side of the gazebo. "And here I wanted to be an aunt to some little noble human mages. That would have been fun."

Solona groaned, rubbing her temples. "That's… well, probably not happening."

Kallian heaved a large sigh. "You're no fun. Well, I wandered over for a hangover cure, but I'm good to go now."

"Blast it Kallian…" Solona rolled her eyes and scrubbed her face. "Just… if you want to see me, knock from now on. Please?"

"Cross my heart Ammy." Kallian grinned. "Hey, don't we have the Landsmeet today?"

Solona's eyes widened. "Maker! I forgot!" She turned toward the estate, realizing a little late that Aedan was probably trapped in her room, pants-less and dashed back inside, followed by the merciless laughter of Kallian who was finding this whole scenario entirely too funny.

•º•.•º•

The Landsmeet hall was a long building with spacious floors and a raised gallery for the more important nobles and their men at arms to stand on. The far end of the hall was a slightly raised platform with two empty thrones, one of which would continue to stand empty until the matter of succession was put to rest.

The hall had been slowly filling with people. The lower floor was already brimming with local freeholders that were anxious to hear the outcome. Every time that an Arl or Bann came through the door they were announced by a crier and greeted with respect from the gathered freeholders. Loghain and Arl Eamon arrived fairly early in the procession, the regent's men taking up positions near the thrones and the soldiers of Redcliffe filing in orderly rows in front of the Arl's stand.

The long hall was almost completely full by noon, the air buzzing with the hum of a thousand different conversations. It was then that the Highever forces made their appearance, baffling the crier stationed at the door. A soldier with the laurels of house Cousland stamped on his breastplate mercifully filled in for the poor fool. "Teyrn Fergus Cousland of Highever! Representing the alliance of the Teyrnir of Highever and the Arling of Amaranthine!"

The announcement was met with a great uproar, the hall bursting into a roar of mixed outrage and jubilation. Among the chaos strode Fergus, his head held high and aloof from the nonsense around him. Followed close behind and just to the side walked Aedan, bearing his own crest just as proudly and sparing the riot not an iota of attention, a finely dressed Solona on his arm. Behind the brothers came a column of their honor guard, the first rows bearing the Cousland heraldry, followed by soldiers stamped with the green teardrop crossed by lances of the city of Highever. Bringing up the rear were arms men of Amaranthine, their shields bearing the rampant bear head on a checkered background.

The roaring calmed by the time the upset Teyrn took his place on the second level, standing next to the Arl of Redcliffe and his soldiers, acknowledging their alliance.

"I didn't think you would dare show your faces here today." Loghain boomed over the assembled nobles, silencing the rabble with his volume alone.

"A Landsmeet is called." Fergus replied in an equally loud voice, though his was cultured for these events, sounding calm and cool as a still pond even when projecting over the hall. There was no rush, no hurry to his words, just a calm statement of facts. "All the leaders of the country are required to attend if they want their voices heard, and so here I am."

"You're no leader boy!" An Arl from the opposite side of the room shouted, and several others in his vicinity voiced their agreement. "Your family's traitors!"

The Landsmeet broke out in a roar of shouting again, the noise deafening as all the voices ran into one another.

"Did Rendon Howe tell you that?" Fergus shouted above the noise and they quieted again. "Did he tell you that Bryce Cousland sold the secrets of his country to Orlesians? The very Orlesians that he fought alongside our regent Loghain and our deceased and beloved King Maric? You must all remember the battle of White River. My father was there! He fought for this country when others had given it up for lost! He did not betray Ferelden. He was betrayed! By the same man he counted as a friend and ally from those dark times!" He'd captured the Landsmeet now. Some were still not convinced if their grim expressions were anything to go by, but most were listening. His righteous anger had snared them, quailed their protests.

"Like his father before him, Rendon Howe betrayed the trust of his countrymen. Highever burned because of a cowardly act by a cowardly man. My father's men were headed to Ostagar to fight back the darkspawn, and Howe was to join us in that endeavor. Instead he waited until the dead of night and slaughtered everyone inside, taking no prisoners! Even women and children fell to the blades of his men, not a single spared. Innocent blood paid for Howe's selfish ambition, executed for a crime that never existed." Fergus' voice trembled with barely restrained rage and he locked gazes with the man who had started the riot until he looked away, cowed into submission. When he spoke again, it was with a calm voice and he was once again calm and unruffled. "The traitor was never my father. It was always Howe. Howe, who in a few short weeks became not only Teyrn of Highever, but Arl of Denerim as well! Where was Arl Urien's son to take his place when he fell at Ostagar? Locked in his own dungeon, put there by the traitor and killed when his death was more profitable. And which of you were to be next? Who could stand against a man with half of Ferelden's surviving army? One who had no secret alliance with our very own Regent!"

The shouting fired up again, though this time not at Fergus. The combined rage of the Bannorn was directed squarely at Loghain, the antagonist for many of the assembled Banns who had been bitterly fighting him in the bloody civil war for the better part of the last year.

"Enough!" Loghain roared, his voice filling the hall. "Howe was a grown man accountable for his own actions, and will face the judgment of the Maker, as must we all. Whatever his crimes, he should have been brought before the Senechal and judged accordingly, not murdered in his very home by usurpers such as yourselves."

"Howe got his justice." Aedan declared. "Rendon Howe murdered my family, and for that alone I could have enacted blood rights as is my due. But he also betrayed the trust of his Teyrn, and as a disloyal vassal he was met with the punishment that all traitors deserve. Tradition dictates that these offences could only be paid for in blood."

"Do not cite tradition to make your ploy for power seem legitimate." Loghain snarled in response.

"It is no ploy. Without an Arl, the banns of Amaranthine fall under my jurisdiction until a new Arl can be appointed, and they have sworn their arms to me until it comes time that a new Arl is appointed." Fergus supplied coolly, tilting his head up slightly as if to challenge Loghain to try and argue the obvious truth of his words. The Regent never got a chance to provide the expected input.

"See here lords and ladies of the Landsmeet! Loghain would have us give up our freedoms, our traditions out of fear!" Eamon picked up the tail of the conversation, injecting his cause to the debate as had been planned beforehand. "He placed us on this path, yet we should place our destiny in his hands? Must we sacrifice _everything_ good about our nation to save it?"

As impassioned as the speech was, the cheering that met the end of Eamon's piece was not much compared to the complete ruckus that had ensued before. Loghain, for one, seemed more amused than anything, and even went so far as to clap for the Arl, a mocking half grin on his face. "A fine performance Eamon. But no one here is taken in by it." He shot a glare to the assembled nobility as if securing the truthfulness of the statement by pure force of will if absolutely necessary. "You would attempt to put a puppet on the throne, and every soul here knows it. The better question is who will pull the strings? Well look no further! There-!" He pointed an accusatory finger at Theron who had quietly been watching the chaos of the Landsmeet with his hands on the hilts of his swords in case trouble reared its ugly head. The Wardens had snuck in during the chaos following the Cousland's introduction, expecting that there would be trouble if they tried to make an appearance on their own.

For his part, Theron seemed just a tad startled to be suddenly called into the limelight without any warning, and the people who had been in close proximity suddenly fell back as if he were the living embodiment of the Blight itself, revealing Alistair not standing more than half a pace behind. Gathered in a loose ring behind the two Wardens were their back up in the event that things got as dirty as Fergus had warned it might. The red-bearded dwarf swayed on his feet just behind Theron, eyeing the people around him as warily as possible given his obvious state of inebriation. The woman with the Orlesian accent stood behind Alistair, flanked by the giant qunari with the purple eyes and as a backdrop to them all stood the golem, unmoving save for the occasional glance at a woman nearby who was wearing a feathered hat and severely regretting it after receiving what could only be described as menacing looks from what appeared to be a moving pile of human-shaped rocks. Behind the intimidating group of the Warden's companions, the red head of a small elf could just barely be made out. Kallian stood near the doors, her eyes roaming the crowd. Sticker was at her side, along with a couple other members of the Knifers. They went largely unnoticed given that most people's attention was on either Shale or the Regent's ranting.

"The puppeteer himself!" Loghain's expression turned grim as he stalked to the edge of the crowd, intimidating in his shiny silver plate armor. "Tell us Warden! How will the Orlesians take our nation from us? Will they deign to send their troops, or simply issue their commands through this would-be prince? What did they offer you? How much is the price of Ferelden honor now?"

Flabbergasted by the sudden turn of events, Theron's bewilderment quickly turned to rage with the ease of a lifetime of practice. "Orlesians?" He shouted, color creeping up his neck and his eyes widening a fraction with the incredulity he felt at the outlandish accusation. "It wasn't _Orlesians_ that killed Cailan. It wasn't _Orlesians_ that ransacked Lothering, either! _Orlesians_ aren't the ones that have been systematically poisoning your land! You were there Loghain! Did the horde of angry darkspawn look like an army of _Orlesians_ to you?"

His delivery shocked some of the Landsmeet, but Arl Wulff was far beyond caring about trivial things like proper delivery of an argument. "The south is fallen Loghain!" He called down to the Regent, sounding just the slightest hint tired and sad. "Will you let darkspawn take the whole country for fear of Orlais?"

"There are enough refugees in my bannorn now to make it abundantly clear that the threat is all too real, and it isn't Orlesians that they're running from." Bann Alfstanna added from her place along the balcony, her shoulders slumped slightly with the weight of responsibility.

"The Blight is indeed real." Loghain replied in all seriousness, his bluster gone. In that moment, he was one of them, facing their same problems, not the man who was systematically trying to pull the Bannorn under heel by pure force. "But do we need Grey Wardens to fight it?" His tone took a decisive turn for the conspirator, getting back on his wagon after the brief derailment from the thrust of his argument. "They _claim_ that they alone can end the Blight! Yet they failed spectacularly against the darkspawn at Ostagar, and they ask to bring with them _four legions_ of Chevaliers! And once we open our borders to the Chevaliers, can we _really_ expect them to return from whence they came?"

"Why is it always the Orlesians with this knot head?" Theron hissed to Alistair in just a loud enough voice that others around him could easily hear.

Alistair shrugged and pulled an envelope from the side of his breastplate, holding it up slightly so that others could see. "The Wardens at Ostagar requested more Wardens, not Chevaliers, specifically. Maybe your time would have been better spent minding your civil war here rather than checking the borders for phantom cavalry. Wars get expensive." He flicked the envelop in his hand once, showing the waxed seal to those nearest him, his tone somber. "But I guess you found a way to pay for that, didn't you? Blood money, bought with the lives of innocents sold into slavery." A collective gasp went up around the room as those who had seen the rampant wyvern on the envelope whispered it to their neighbors and suddenly the whole room understood exactly what the accusation was. Alistair did not look in the least pleased to have to bring this bit of evidence forward, the whole business of slavery clearly distasteful to him.

Aedan glanced sideways at Fergus and saw his brother nod with the faintest twitch of a smile. Now he knew whose idea it was to have Alistair take over the debate, and to much better effect than having the hotheaded Theron try and take charge. The Dale clearly had no tact for human politics.

"What is this?" An enraged Bann Sighard shouted above the murmuring, silencing the crowd immediately. "There is no slavery in Ferelden! Explain yourself!" At the back of the room, the small knot of elves that were going unnoticed by the greater majority of the crowd looked like they wanted answers too.

"There is no saving the Alienage." Loghain declared with no small amount of what seemed to be remorse. "Damage from the riots has yet to be repaired. There are bodies still rotting in their homes." Whispers among the crowd broke out, the general consensus seeming to be that they had heard those rumors as well. In the back of the room, Kallian's face went almost as red as her hair, an indignant look of rage settling over her features. "It is not a place I would send my worse enemy. There is no chance of holding it if the Blight comes here." With a deep breath Loghain turned back to face Alistair and Theron, his gaze settling on the bastard prince. "Despite what you may think _Warden,_ I have done my duty. Whatever my regrets may be for the elves. I have done what was needed for the good of Ferelden."

Alistair frowned at that, glancing up to the balcony first at Eamon then Fergus, who gave a nod of encouragement. Theron silently offered moral support, knowing better than to blow his lid now when they were making some headway. He'd been cautioned multiple times to not speak unless it was absolutely necessary.

"The good of Ferelden." Alistair repeated, his frown still very much in evidence. "Right." He leaned back slightly, his sarcastic drawl coming out almost without thought, his natural armor in situations where he was unsure of himself. "So let me get this straight. For the good of Ferelden, you sold the Alienage's elves into slavery, and also decided that it would be a _great_ idea to go ahead and let good old Howe to have his way with the people of Denerim? _That_ was your brilliant idea?"

"Howe took my only son!" Sighard shouted; his voice wracked with grief as he took up the banner with aplomb, clearly distressed. "The things done to him-!" He choked on his words, leaning against the railing for support while he collected himself. "The things done to him… some are beyond any healer's skill." The Bann's grief filled gaze met the majority of those others in the room, but Loghain would not meet the man's eyes, instead waving off the argument as if it were nothing of particular consequence.

"Howe was a grown man accountable for his own actions." The sidestep to absolve himself of the guilt that came along with his part in the matter was sensed by everyone in the room, and the tension ratcheted up a notch. "His murderers have seen to it that he went to meet the Maker to answer for his crimes." The accusation did not go unnoticed, but neither Fergus nor Aedan flinched from the glare that they suddenly found themselves on the end of from the Regent. "But enough of this. I have a question for you, Warden: What have you done with my daughter?"

"Your daughter?" Alistair and Theron exchanged a confused look, both glancing up to the empty thrones at the same time. "Nothing." Alistair replied after an awkward moment, seeming perplexed that she wasn't up on her podium.

"Just protected her from your foolishness." Theron grumbled angrily, crossing his arms over his chest.

Loghain was undeterred by their responses, the gathered nobility hanging on every word of their heated exchange. "You took my daughter- our queen- by force, killing her guards in the process. What arts have you employed to keep her? Does she even still live?" The Wardens had no answer, but they hardly needed one as the answer decided to provide herself to the room.

"I believe I can speak for myself." Another gasp went up as yet another intruder made herself known, all eyes drawn to Anora as she stepped forward looking as prim and proper as always. Gathering herself, she walked into the center of the room, her very presence settling like a great weight over everyone gathered. "Lords and Ladies of Ferelden, hear me. This Warden has slandered and defamed Ferelden's greatest hero in a bid to put an imposter on Maric's throne." Again the Landsmeet dissolved into chaos, boos and cries of dismay echoing from all around the chambered halls.

The chaos was so great that nobody heard Theron's own enraged denial of the accusation.

"Oh, and she turned on us. What a shock: She seemed like such a _nice_ despot." Alistair quipped, his tone heavily sarcastic and vaguely bored. Theron only shot the man a glare over his shoulder, though not one that bore the man sincere ill will on his person.

"It has become clear to me, Warden-" The nobility quieted down when Anora spoke next, the woman lifting her chin defiantly as she addressed Theron. "-that the true threat to this nation is _you_. I offered you the chance to ally with me for the good of this nation, and you refused it. I will not allow you to destroy the throne Cailan and I have held."

"Who here can say that Anora is not fit to rule this land?" It was Loghain's turn to add his dribble to the mess, the man pacing in front of the dais upon which Anora stood, so much like a guard dog that Theron was surprised when he didn't growl and bark at them all. "And who can say that this Alistair is? We know nothing of him save that he _may_ have royal blood. For five years Anora has been queen, and proven herself worthy of the Theirin name. She can lead our people through this crisis, and I can lead her armies." He made a broad gesture to where Anora stood, proud and alone, stepping aside slightly for all to see before throwing his arms wide to encompass all of the Landsmeet. "My lords and ladies, our land has been threatened before. It's been invaded, and lost, and won times beyond counting. We Fereldans have proven that we will never truly be conquered so long as we are united. We must not let ourselves be divided now. Stand with me, and we shall defeat even the Blight itself!"

All eyes went to the banns gathered above for the vote to be cast. Fergus leaned forward slightly, his palms resting on the railing. "Highever will dedicate its arms to the Wardens."

Encouraged by someone else speaking first, others began to step forward, vowing their votes to the Wardens as well. Secretly, Aedan was impressed with the turn out for their cause. He'd known that his brother, the Wardens and Eamon had been pulling every string that they could get their hand on to get this sort of turn out, but to actually see their efforts come to fruition was an entirely different sort of satisfaction. At his side Solona squeezed his arm gently and he shot her a small smile of reassurance. Among the votes for the Warden's cause a single man spoke against them, leaving a wake of silence at the declaration, but in the end the single vote against the Wardens was outweighed by the rest of the council. Not even Anora's support of her father could outweigh the almost unanimous vote in favor of the Wardens.

"The Landsmeet has turned against you, Loghain." Eamon called out once all the Banns and Arls accounted for had spoken their piece of the argument. The vote was tallied quickly; everyone had been keeping a mental checklist. "Step down gracefully, and let us turn to the matter of defeating the Blight."

Loghain had no intention of stepping down gracefully. His face twisted into a mask of rage, his eyes lifting to the gathered nobility who stood in the balcony. "Traitors!" He yelled at them, his gaze unsettling everyone it landed on. "Which of you stood against the Orlesian emperor when his troops flattened your fields and raped your wives? You fought with us once Eamon!" He turned his full rage at the Arl, the disbelief and disappointment at what to him was an obvious betrayal clearly expressed in his voice. "You cared about this land once, before you got too old and fat, and content to even see what you risk. None of you deserve a say in what happens here." His ire was suddenly turned on the Landsmeet as a whole, his enraged pacing clearly unnerving those in the front rows, who stood back. Theron and Alistair stood their ground, unflinching from Loghain's unbridled rage. "None of you have spilled blood for this country the way I have! How _dare_ you judge me!"

"If it's a fight you want, then you'll get one." Theron warned, his hands falling to the hilts of his weapons.

"The Landsmeet is ours. It's a bit pointless attacking now, isn't it?" Alistair asked sardonically, his posture relaxed though anyone that knew the Warden knew that he could have his weapon out in the blink of an eye. He didn't survive the Deep Roads by being unskilled with his arms.

"Then let us end this." Loghain sounded tired, but his shoulders were still thrown back proudly, despite the weight of his armor. "I suppose I knew it would come to this. A man is made by the quality of his enemies…" He settled an appraising glance on Alistair for a moment. "Maric told me that once. I wonder who it's more of a compliment to?" He shook his head then turned his hawk-like gaze up at the gathered banns, singling out Alfstanna from the gathered crowd. "Let the Landsmeet declare the terms of the duel."

Without missing a beat the female bann came up to the railing and settled her hands on the well-worn wood, leaning forward. "It shall be fought according to tradition. A test of arms in single combat until one party yields. And we who are assembled," she gestured to the crowd at large, "will abide by the outcome."

"So, which of you will it be?" Loghain asked, appraising the two men with a surprising amount of sincerity.

Theron looked over the huge plated human and glanced to Alistair. "I suppose you want to take a crack at his rot-wooded head, eh?"

Alistair snorted, trying to play off the suggestion casually but Theron knew that behind the absent smile, Alistair wanted nothing more than to have a go at Loghain. It had been a long time in coming. "I think I could do that." He looked up to Alfstanna, suddenly seeming to go shy when he realized that he would have to address someone again. "I'll fight my own battle, thanks."

Loghain flicked his gaze to meet to determined one of Alistair, nothing but contempt in his eyes. "Then let us test the mettle of our would-be king. Prepare yourself." With a huff he turned, walking opposite of Alistair and retrieved his weapon and shield from a man at arms standing close by. The crowd parted immediately, making a wide ring and pressing backwards from what was to be the fighting ground.

"Keep on your toes." Theron mumbled, clapping Alistair on the shoulder and giving him a quick shake. "Don't make a fool of yourself here when we've finally got done with all these damned tasks. The Creators only know what sort of hell I'll have to go through if I have to do this all over again."

"Theron is that… concern for me?" Alistair asked with a grin, drawing his blade and slipping his shield onto his arm, shrugging into the familiar grip of it. "I'm touched, really, I am."

The Dale snorted "Make the Wardens proud." He muttered just loud enough for Alistair to hear and joined the ring of spectators that were quickly forming around the two combatants, crossing his arms over his chest.

Alistair's brief chuckle was obviously forced, but the serious scowl that quickly took over was certainly not. He swung his sword experimentally, loosening his shoulders and wrist.

"Let's get on with it then." Loghain growled and wasted no time in tapping off a quick strike on Alistair to test the younger man's resolve.

If he expected the Warden to cave at the start of the fight then he was dead wrong. Alistair answered the challenge with a powerful blow of his own that had Loghain retreating behind the defense of his shield and from there easily turned aside the blow. There was no pause in his movement when Alistair's blade slid off the crest of Loghain's shield without resistance and snapped his elbow back close to his body, exploding forward with a powerful jab towards Loghain's belly. The scream of clashing metal echoed through the high beams of the Landsmeet hall along with the startled gasp of those in attendance.

The move may have felled a hundred darkspawn, but Alistair was not fighting a mindless foot soldier of the horse. This was the hero of River Dane, and he knew how to handle himself in battle. The sword only glanced a blow along the solid plate steel of Loghain's side, leaving Alistair vulnerable to a counter attack since his own had not been a fatal blow.

Even as he started to retreat to a safer stance, Alistair found himself wildly ducking under his shield to keep from being beheaded by Loghain's answering slice, the blade keening as it sheared off a razor thin layer of Alistair's shield in a shower of sparks. Loghain's shield came up, clattering Alistair's sword against his chest, totally defeating the hastily erected defense that Alistair had tried to pull together against Loghain's retaliation. With his own sword pressed flat against his chest Alistair was forced to stagger backward off balance. Loghain pressed his momentary advantage and thrust his shield forward in a bash, nearly knocking Alistair off his feet entirely under the assault.

Loghain's forward charge pressed Alistair back, barely managing to keep his feet and steadily beat a hasty retreat toward the ring of spectators who shrank back quickly from the fight as it came closer than what was comfortable. Theron did not budge from his spot.

"You did better at the Provings!" He shouted when Alistair nearly lost his head a second time, Loghain's blade blocked in the last second by Alistair's answering parry. "Shape up!"

The reprimand was apparently enough to galvanize Alistair into action. His stance changed, his sword held low, and Loghain's next strike did not meet steel. Alistair deftly moved aside out of range if the blow and retreated sideways instead of backward, working around his opponent instead of away from him. At the side of the ring, Theron's lips twitched up in a smile when Loghain suddenly found the younger warrior flanking his left side, their shields in a tight lock and his back left completely open to Alistair's next strike.

Loghain saved himself from the fatal blow by twisting around, using his greater strength to throw Alistair's shield off, breaking the lock, but the damage was done. First blood had been drawn.

The Landsmeet went wild with cheering and booing in turns as the combatants waged war across the floor, the ring of steel knelling powerfully over the din. It quickly became apparent to all that Loghain had the upper hand in strength and experience, weaving his way through the battle with the fluid motions of one long versed in combat. Alistair was not his match, not directly, but he kept his older opponent working, forcing Loghain to work twice as hard to land a hit than he needed to. They were quickly tiring, but Loghain was slipping.

A gasp left the crowd when Alistair made his move, disarming Loghain cleanly with a sweep of his blade and sent the weapon clattering away, sliding to a stop at Theron's feet. Loghain tried a last ditch effort at crumpling Alistair's defense, but to no avail. His shield missed the target completely and allowed Alistair to slip around his defense and strike Loghain between the shoulders with a powerful pommel strike, sending the Regent down on one knee.

"I… must yield." Loghain gasped, heaving with weariness. Alistair keeping his sword leveled at the man's neck as he walked to stand in front of him. "It seems there is some of Maric in you after all, boy." There was some new level of appraisement in his eyes, not quite respect, but as if he had seen Alistair for the first time.

"This was never about Maric." Alistair replied bitterly, adjusting the grip on his sword, his fist tightening and his expression grim. A tendon jumped in his jaw, clenching hard as he stood in front of Loghain. "This- this is for Duncan!" Without warning or so much as a glance to any of those gathered, Alistair closed the short distance to the kneeling Regent with an enraged battle cry, his sword held high.

The second before the blade touched his neck Loghain shifted his glance from his executioner to his daughter, her blue eyes wide with horror. In that infinite second he smiled for her.


	53. The Quiet

"It could have gone better."

"It could have been worse."

The two brothers stared at each other over the small space between them provided by the surface of a polished wood table. They sat in the Gnawed Noble, each holding a mug of ale in their hands that were drained down to differing levels. Fergus had hardly touched his alcohol, while Aedan was nearly finished with his mug.

"I didn't think he would actually kill Loghain." Fergus said quietly, fiddling with the handle of his mug absently. "It came as a bit of a shock to us all, I think."

Aedan snorted indelicately. "You didn't see Theron's expression. He looked most shocked of all, I think. Whatever you did to our new monarch, it's apparently changed him drastically enough to warrant… well, this." He gestured vaguely to the air, indicating the events of the Landsmeet as a whole and finished the last of his drink.

Silence elapsed between the two brothers. A bar maid came around and refilled Aedan's mug, to which he politely nodded and slipped a coin on the table, which she took with a wink and went back to her other duties.

"I don't like this Fergus." Aedan muttered darkly after a while, taking a drink from his fresh ale. Across from them near the door, the Warden's companions were drinking and being generally noisy together, an after-effect of the party that had spilled out of Eamon's estate to congratulate the King on his new victory. Alistair was at the center of the chaos, looking bashful while the others regaled each other with stories of their various misadventures throughout the Blight leading up to this point. The new king wasn't the only one who was flabbergasted at the way that things had turned out.

"There are precious few other people that can be trusted to this responsibility." Fergus replied with a grim look on his face. "Denerim's Arl would normally be in charge of this, but…"

"Dead." Aedan filled in with a grimace. "Seems Ferelden is suffering a shortage of leaders at the moment." The shortage in question being one that he'd had a personal hand in exacerbating. With the death of Howe and Loghain, there was yet another gap in power in the noble ranks that needed filling. Alistair was filling Anora's role, but there were some who grumbled about it now that the high of the Landsmeet had settled. If it weren't for the war with the darkspawn on their steps, there would be dissention in the ranks over the usurper king, as some had started calling him while deep in their cups.

"Which is why you're being left in charge of the city while the bulk of our armies go to Redcliffe." Fergus took a long pull from his own mug before setting it down again. "The main body of the darkspawn may very well be posted to fall on Redcliffe, but there is far more than a single army's worth to the horde. Denerim may come under attack by darkspawn forces that we can't account for."

"I know." Aedan heaved a heavy sigh. "But I feel like I'm being left with Highever again and Howe is standing outside the gate."

"That will never happen again." Fergus said with surprising surety. "For now Ferelden is united and all otherwise unassigned men will be marching for Redcliffe in the morning. Just keep Denerim from falling to pieces while we're away."

Aedan shot his brother a weak grin and lifted his mug in toast. "To younger brothers! May they always be left behind to babysit."

Fergus humored him and clacked his mug against Aedan's. "Keep an eye on those Templars. Make sure they don't get it in their heads that they can take over the city while we're away."

"I always keep my eyes on the Templars." Aedan snorted and took another drink. "Don't have to tell me twice about that."

Across the way Oghren was belching the alphabet to the applause of his companions who were obviously quite drunk to be amused by such juvenile humor. Even Theron cracked a smile at the madness, though he seemed extremely uncomfortable in such close quarters as the booth that they were sharing and the loudness of it all.

"Everything is going to be different once this is over with." Aedan remarked, watching their antics. "A Warden on the throne… I'll bet no one saw that coming."

"There will certainly be no shortage of interesting things to settle if we can defeat this Blight." Fergus agreed, watching as well for a moment then leveled a look at the side of Aedan's head. "So, when's the proposal going to happen?"

Aedan sputtered, wincing when ale burned it's way in the wrong direction. "Pardon?"

"Well, as the old saying goes, first comes the bedding, then next a wedding." Fergus indulged himself in a grin, delighted that his younger brother had now turned an interesting shade of pink.

"Damnit Fergus!" Aedan groused, trying and failing to get his furious blush under control. "I am not nearly drunk enough to discuss this. Besides, it took me all this time just to convince her to _stay_. I doubt that she's going to accept a marriage proposal any time soon."

"Fine, fine." Fergus was obviously not placated by that answer but was willing to move on to other subjects. "How is Kallian? I imagine you're going to have to be working with her while we're gone to secure the Alienage. Whatever Loghain's faults, he was right about the Alienage. It will be hard to hold if Denerim is attacked.

"She'll be all right in time." Aedan conceded hesitantly, looking up as the Warden's party disturbed the rest of the Noble with a chorus of laughter. "The damage done to the Alienage might take a generation or two to recover from, but they'll manage. The elves are enduring, if anything. I'll send what relief I can spare tomorrow to help repair it as best as can be managed, but I feel like it will never be enough to make up for what was done to them."

"Father would have been proud to hear you talk like that." Fergus said quietly, swirling his ale. "If things had been different, I think he would have wanted you to succeed him."

Aedan snorted and took a drink. "Ah, you forget that I was just the rowdy younger brother. I would have burned down Highever in a second if he'd made me Teyrn. It took a lot to make me slightly more responsible than the common cutpurse." _'A lot'_ of course meaning the death of his family and the protracted revenge scheme that he had put into place involving a blood mage, a rogue elf, and the rumored king-slaying Wardens. He wondered still if his dead father would look at him with disgust if he were alive to see it, but he quenched those doubts with another drink and the satisfaction of knowing that Howe was a corpse, and he was not.

Fergus watched him quietly and took a drink of his own. "What's done is done." He said after a moment, as if reading Aedan's thoughts. "Our problem now is the darkspawn. All of the rest of this-" he gestured vaguely at the air "-can be sorted out once we're not all in mortal peril."

His returning grin was small and weak, but visible all the same. "Seems a lot of things need to be put off to the side when the world is in mortal peril."

"Life does grind to a bit of a halt in the wake of a crisis." Fergus replied with hints of his easy humor and smiled at the dour expression that Aedan was trying to force away. "We'll get through this, too."

Aedan nodded in agreement, but his heart was not in the motion.

Unseen by the rowdy group surrounding the new king or the brothers sitting across from them, The Warden slipped out of the noise and the chaos and out into the welcoming darkness of night where the wind revitalized some of his foggy head. He didn't drink much on principle, just because he was never a fan on the way that it dulled his senses. Theron was a hunter of the Dalish to the core, and reveled in the feeling of being alive with all senses on alert. The clear sharpness of the world when he was in the grip of a hunt and the thrill of stalking prey on the run clever enough to make his job difficult.

For once, he had let those warrior instincts drop, knowing that his friend needed a night to forget what had happened. Alistair didn't want the throne. He wanted revenge. Theron could understand that. But in getting one, he also had to take the other, and now here they were. Two Wardens left, one a king, and both on the edge of madness. Perhaps he needed a night to forget just as much as Alistair did.

Theron didn't think as he walked, simply letting his feet guide him as he meandered the city. It wasn't long before he found himself scaling a couple of rooftops, easily hopping the border between where the shemlen lived and where they kept their elves. He couldn't understand why he kept returning to this place of desolation and squalor, nor did he pause to try and examine the reasons. Theron didn't want to contemplate. He simply wanted to be.

Standing before the great tree in the center of the Alienage, he slipped off his boots and climbed the tree with deft ease, navigating the wide trunk and branches as if he had practiced climbing the Vhenadahl all his life. He settled himself on a large wide branch near the top and got comfortable, folding his hands in his lap. He stared up at the sky as he had been fond to do as of late, letting his mind go blank, determined not to think about the battle that awaited him when they got to Redcliffe. His nightmares had been steadily getting worse as the days rolled on, heralding what must be the end. He never saw the Archdemon in the dreams, but he heard the singing, a sad plaintive cry that always broke his heart to hear. But the Taint was not all sad lullabies and the dreams always turned to visions of placed dark and horrible, filled with darkspawn and other nameless terrors.

But he was awake now, and high in the branches of the Vhenadahl tree with the darkness and silence of the Alienage around him, it was easy to not think about such things.

"I thought I told you that the hahren doesn't like outsiders touching our tree."

Theron looked down to see Kallian hauling herself up on a branch next to him, carefully maintaining her balance as she sat on the broad limb and made herself comfortable. "But the tree hasn't protested." Theron replied mildly, watching Kallian settle in. "At least not that I've heard."

Kallian looked at him sharply, obviously startled. "You can talk to trees?"

Theron let her think that for a moment before smiling, giving himself away. "No, only the Keepers can do that."

She stared at him, unconvinced and crossed her arms over her chest. "Sure they can. But what're you doing up here? I thought you didn't like the Alienage."

"I don't." Theron replied and turned his gaze skyward. "But I do like this tree. It reminds me of home."

"Where is home for the Dalish?" Asked Kallian, threading her fingers together over her propped up knee.

"Wherever the clan is." Came the simple reply, and Theron looked over to see Kallian shooting him a look. "For me, Ferelden has mostly been home. My clan has been steadily moving through the mountains and forests of Ferelden for as long as I can remember. I think we were in Orlais for a short time, but only very near the border. The Brecilian has been my favorite so far. The trees there are very old and filled with ancient magic, and littered with undiscovered elfish ruins. There is a lot of history for us here that has yet to be unearthed."

Kallian blinked at the fondness of his tone, surprised by how soft he sounded when he wasn't being gruff and Warden-y. "I didn't take you for being so sentimental."

Theron rolled his eyes. "That is because you've only seen me as a Warden, lethellan. I have been little else but a warrior for a long time. But…" He traced a crack in the tree's limb he sat on, a stress fracture perhaps from a high wind or the weight of the tree itself that had started to heal with time. "The Vhenadahl is for remembering. An old tree like this carries many memories of the people it has watched over its life. Tomorrow we march for Redcliffe, and I will probably die there fighting the Archdemon and the Blight. Hopefully my life will mean something then, but for now I would just like to remember the times that came before."

"Hey, hey!" Kallian did not like the way the conversation was going and she stood on her branch, a frown on her face. "You can't give up before you've even put foot on the battlefield!"

"I haven't given up lethellan." Theron replied. "I've just accepted my lot in life."

"Well un-accept it!" Kallian jumped over to Theron's branch, navigating the narrow space with expert ease to come and stand over him like a child caught with their hands in the cookie jar. "You're definitely gonna die with an attitude like that."

Theron was stunned speechless at her sudden vehemence. "Why do you care?" To his credit he sounded more befuddled than offended like he normally would have.

Kallian was taken aback by the question anyway and thought it over for a long silent moment. Then she crouched down so that their knees were nearly touching, balancing on the balls of her feet. "Because it's hard to pay back a debt to a dead person." The reply had Theron quirking an eyebrow and prompted Kallian to elaborate. "Well, you pulled my sorry ass out of trouble once, and helped with that magister. I owe you for that. If you run off and die in a heroic blaze of glory, I'm gonna be stuck with this debt forever. So promise you'll come back." She'd gone quiet and serious, her earlier bluster draining away.

"Lethallan, I can't." Theron replied quietly, sitting up straight and folding his legs in a cross. My duty is to stop the Blight, whatever the cost. If that means I have to give my life toward that end…"

"Then can you promise that you won't be stupid and reckless?" Kallian asked, kneeling now that there was space to do so and sat back on her heels. Theron was silent on that point too long for her liking, waffling about his answer and she abruptly stood and dropped, swinging from the branch and landing on the ground below with a loud thump.

"Wait!" Theron called, quickly scrambling to his feet and dropped from the branch as well, landing smoothly on bent knees and sprang after Kallian who was stomping her way back home. "Kallian, wait."

"Why?" She whirled around, all barbs and anger. "You're just gonna tell me how duty is more important than living. Sod off. I don't need to hear it." She started to turn to leave when he reached out and grabbed her arm, turning her around again.

"I don't want to die." He said suddenly when Kallian opened her mouth to yell at him. "Believe that I don't want to die, if nothing else. But I can't promise that I'll come back alive or play it safe and hope for the best. If we fail at Redcliffe and the Archdemon escapes or kills us all, Ferelden will be lost. My home will be lost. There are no more Wardens coming. They're stationed to protect Orlais but refuse to breach the border. Whether the country survives or not depends entirely on this battle. I want to live-" He reiterated, steadfastly meeting Kallian's gaze, "But I may not have a choice in the matter. Not with the fate of the world hanging in the balance like this."

Kallian was silent, her fire gone, dampened by the heavy weight that Theron bore. Hesitantly she took a small step forward and leaned in, placing a small kiss on the Warden's cheek. "Go be a hero, then." Without another word she turned to leave but he caught her hand and held it until she was forced to look at him over her shoulder, an obvious question in her gaze. "What?"

"If by some miracle I do return, would you be here?" He asked, not knowing exactly why it seemed so important to him. To have something to return to… a place to belong.

Her smile was cautious and she touched the red mark covering the hand that he still held of hers. "You're one of us, and we're in this together. I'll be here."

He let her hand slip out of his and she left, back into the depths of the Alienage where she blended into the night like a shadow, leaving Theron in the middle of the street under the boughs of the Vhenadahl to contemplate his own words.

•º•.•º•

On the morning that the combined forces of all of Ferelden left Denerim, Aedan stood by the gates and watched with a face as passive as stone, Solona lingering near by, holding lightly to her staff and watched the procession. Though he was filled with trepidation, Aedan was very careful to not let any of it show and raised his hand in a genial gesture to the ranks of soldiers as they passed. They were already headed for an impossible task, there was no need to make the men any more nervous by displaying weakness and fear now. They needed all of the confidence that they could get.

Behind him stood a small representation of the troops that were to be left behind when the bulk of the army left. They bore the crest of Denerim on their shields, though a couple of individuals were marked with the Cousland crest. They were some of the most loyal of the Highever soldiers that had come to defend the Cousland brothers in their time of need, and were being left to help Aedan maintain some semblance of authority once everyone else of importance was gone. A couple additional cats to keep the rats at bay, as it were.

With his soldiers at his back and the walking dead before him, Aedan could afford no lapse in character, nor did he show any signs of weakening the strong mask that he wore. Solona worried for him, worried for all of them, but she kept her peace and their distance. They had both agreed that making their relationship public wasn't the wisest choice now of all times, and kept a friendly space between each other when in the public eye, just as they had been for the better part of a year.

Fergus approached with a shadow of his normally cheerful grin on his face and clasped hands with Aedan's in a warrior's grip, their armor clanking against each other. "You stay safe, little brother."

"Worry about your own hide." Aedan replied with forced bravado, clapping his brother roughly on the shoulder. "If you go out there and die, I'll kill you myself."

That got a legitimate chuckle out of Fergus, and he returned Aedan's shoulder clap with one of his own, shaking him by the arm a bit. "We'll send those darkspawn packing, you'll see. Then we'll come back covered in glory and blood, and the bards will sing of us for generations."

"I'll just be glad to see you home safe. No glory required." Aedan replied and gave Fergus' shoulder another pat before letting his arm drop to his side. "I'll see to it that Denerim is kept safe. You just concentrate on saving the world."

Fergus grinned. "I'll do at that. Eyes on the horizon. Look for us on the return march home." The brothers shared a loose embrace, careful of each other's armor and then bid each other farewell, both knowing that it was entirely possible that this could be their last time seeing one another.

Solona finally broke her peace then, closing the distance between them and gently laid her hand on Aedan's arm. "I don't usually pray to the Maker." She said quietly, looking at Fergus' retreating form. "Ever since the Circle… Well, I don't even know if the Maker or his bride would listen to someone like me. But I will pray for his return. You've lost too much already."

Aedan broke his gaze from Fergus and looked down at Solona, a small fragile smile on his lips. "Thank you." He touched the back of her hand with the tips of his fingers and she withdrew. After all they'd been through with dodging the Chantry and the Templars, neither of them had turned to the Maker in a long time. But just this once, in a time of darkness when faced with the wrath of their god, spawned of the follies of man, perhaps it was okay.

Turning toward the men behind him, Aedan made a small gesture to the once directly to his right, tense and awaiting orders. "Go assemble your men, captains." He said in a firm voice, and the soldiers snapped themselves to attention immediately. "You have your orders." There was a chorus of "yessir!" from those assembled and then the captains and what gathered men there were scattered to go accomplish their individual assignments. The defense of Denerim began.

* * *

><p>Hey guys! Long time no see, right? Well, it's summer now. Exams are done, so freetime is back. Gosh, it's been a while since I've written. Like, <em>really <em>written. Anyway, the Landsmeet was sort of the peak, and now we're in a downward slide towards the end. All the exciting things happen from here on out!

I don't really know what the update schedule is going to be like, if there is one at all. But I've been doing a lot of writing for random pieces of chapters go come, so it probably won't take long to pull them all together into something more cohesive than simple snippets. We'll see. But I plan to finish this out by the end of summer. Thanks everyone for sticking with me! Onto the glorious end!


	54. Storm of Blood

He was still feeling numb from the news. Still spattered with the gore of darkspawn. Still trembling from the after effects of a hard-fought battle. The worst was that he had been informed that this was not even going to be the worst of it, a pill that was truly tough to swallow.

The shemlen messenger Arl Eamon had sent told him of the unfortunate news that Denerim was to be the next Lothering. Theron's heart had leapt into his throat at the news, recalling with painful clarity the final words that Kallian had left him with before marching to Redcliffe with the army and felt the ghost of her lips on his cheek. He had thought that she would be safer in Denerim, the darkspawn focusing the main body of their attack on Redcliffe. They had all been horribly wrong. The Horde would make it to Denerim long before Redcliff and the allies gathered by the Grey Warden treaties could march to the city. He wanted to believe that the skeleton guard protecting Denerim under Aedan's care would be enough to hold the city until help could arrive. But that hope was dwindling quickly to nonexistence. If the main body of the Horde was at Denerim and it was only a token force here...

Then came the news of the sacrifice required to put the Blight to a permanent end. Riordan had volunteered for the task, but all of the uncertainty that having only three Wardens present in the final battle made Theron honestly afraid that the man wouldn't be able to succeed in the task. Perhaps _none_ of them would. He knew that the Wardens had an uncanny ability to survive against all the odds, especially where darkspawn were concerned, but this seemed to stack the odds truly against their favor.

He hoped that Riordan would be able to make good on his intention to slay the Archdemon, but what if it came down to him and Alistair? Reluctantly, he had come to the conclusion that he would have to spare Alistair from that death. He was in a position to become king, and Theron knew that if Alistair died and Anora was left that he would regret it more than dying. The woman was a snake in pretty clothes, and he didn't trust the cunning guile in those blue eyes of hers. He didn't trust what she would have in store for his people if Alistair fell and the vengeance she would take on him for trying to disposes her.

Briefly he wondered what it would be like to take in the soul of the Archdemon, that final moment when his soul and the Archdemon's clashed for supremacy and then cancelled each other out. Would it hurt to die in such a way?

With these heavy thoughts plaguing his mind, Theron went to his room only to find someone looming over the lit fireplace. His hand immediately went to draw his blade, surprised that someone would dare to enter his room when the figure spoke, her voice calm and instantly familiar.

"Be calm. It is only I."

Theron relaxed, lifting a hand to scrub at his tired face when he recognized Morrigan. He must have been jumpier than he gave himself credit for to nearly pull a blade on the witch. Though he wasn't much a fan of her hostile attitude toward just about everything in the world, he still considered the witch a valuable ally. Many a time had her spells come in handy, though he barely trusted her enough to turn his back on her. "No harm done, but what are you doing here? Is something wrong with your room?"

She remained silent for a heartbeat, her gaze still on the fire. "I am well. 'Tis you who are in danger." Morrigan turned, fixing her yellow owl-like eyes on Theron, her fingers loosely threaded together. When Theron only replied to her gaze with a confused stare of his own, she continued. "I have a plan, you see. A way out. The loop in your hole. I know what happens when the Archdemon dies." Immediately Theron stiffened, disliking the cunning look that had now taken possession of the mage's face and the confidence with which she spoke. "I know a Grey Warden must be sacrificed, and that sacrifice could be you. I have come to tell you that this does not need to be."

Suspicious was a vast understatement, and Theron felt the strong need to have his hands on his weapons again. How was it that she knew, when even he and Alistair had been ignorant to that bit of information until literally just moments ago? "Does not need to be? What are you getting at? Speak plainly."

Morrigan's eyes traveled to his nervously clenching hands, a slow mischievous smile forming on her face. "I offer a way out." She replied simply, gesturing toward him with an empty hand. "A way out for all the Grey Wardens, that there need be no sacrifice. A ritual…performed on the eve of battle, in the dark of night." Her voice was low, dark, nearly even seductive and still those golden eyes were fixed resolutely on Theron's own.

"What sort of ritual?" Theron could no longer keep himself from putting a hand on the hilt of his sword, disliking Morrigan's presence here more with every word she spoke. He did not like the sort of magic that these shemlen seemed to prefer, and had come to realize that the purpose of the majority of their rituals were not the peaceful kind that shepherded spirits of the dead into the Void.

Morrigan shrugged at his obvious ambivalence toward the subject, undeterred. "It is old magic, from a time before the Circle of Magi was created. Some might call it blood magic, but that is but a name. There is far more to fear in this world than names."

He mumbled an elfish curse under his breath. "I doubt I will be surprised to hear where it is that you've learned this ritual."

"It is from Flemeth, of course." Morrigan replied with an easy casual air. "I have known about it for some time."

"So, you've known about this the whole time?" Theron gestured behind him into the hall, indicating the general direction in which Riordan had summoned he and Alistair to impart the bad news. It shouldn't have been a surprise. Flemeth had known about the ancient Grey Warden documents, had kept them in her house under close study for who only knew how long. It shouldn't have been a surprise to find out that she also knew the steep price for slaying an Archdemon once and for all. "You knew about the sacrifice before Riordan even told us, and yet you decided to keep it to yourself."

"I did. Would you have believed me if I had been the one to tell you? I have my doubts." Here, Theron could agree with the witch. He hardly believed it even when Riordan had been the one to tell him.

Still, the whole situation was making his ears itch. "Old magic is never as simple as waving your hands and speaking of good intentions. It always comes with a price."

"Perhaps." She inclined her head slightly, but by her tone seemed no less determined to make Theron hear her out. "But that price need not be so unbearable, especially if there is much to be gained. All I ask is that you listen to what I have to offer, nothing more."

He was silent for a long moment. His first thought was to outright deny the witch, but the words would not come to him. An echo of a soft voice quietly asking for his safe return stopped him. Feeling defeated and with a great amount of trepidation, Theron finally gave in. "Fine then. Tell me what it is that you've planned."

Morrigan did not smile, but he could tell that the witch was at least pacified by his response. Silently, she walked over to the bed and sat upon it before meeting his gaze again, laying her palms down on the sheets. "What I propose is this: lay with me. Here, tonight. And from our joining, a child will be conceived. The child will bear the taint, and when the Archdemon is slain, its essence will seek the child like a beacon. At this early stage the child can absorb that essence and not perish. The Archdemon is still destroyed, with no Grey Warden dying in the process." She was using her best persuasive tone, speaking slowly and deliberately so that Theron would miss nothing, so that he would understand what it was she asked of him.

The blood drained from his face, and the denial that had been so reluctant before welled up quite suddenly. "No. You can't expect me to do this." Theron turned, shaking his head. Having a family was never one of his priorities, and even less so after his life had been torn asunder by becoming a Grey Warden. It was hard to imagine yourself loving somebody when you knew that death was literally waiting around every corner. But to lay with the witch? No, never.

Morrigan shifted behind him, a frown on her face. "Do not be so hasty to turn down this offer. Think of being able to face the Archdemon and live. To be the only Warden in history that could claim the glory of being able to defeat one and live to tell the tale? More importantly, what if you could survive to be with that woman from Denerim?" She did not miss how Theron stiffened visibly at the mention, quickly turning to face her with a dark glower on his face.

"What would you know of it?" He asked without thinking, the sinking feeling in his heart already beginning to work against his resolution to have nothing to do with this ritual. Kallian's soft plea for him to come back safe rang in his ears as if she were standing there in the room. He had felt her fear for his life in the way that she gently touched his face, and knew that hearing of his death would break her. The strong little woman who had already lost so much and yet continued to stand proud against all opposition…

Suddenly, Morrigan had been given all the advantage in the world and leaned forward slightly, black hair brushing against her long lashes. "She would be disappointed if you died, wouldn't she? What would you give to see her again? The Warden's fate does not have to be yours, Theron. I can make that possible." She let him think it over for a while, the elf's expressions that played across his face just as telling as the silence that he declined to break. "So, what will it be?"

•º•.•º•

Power crackled in her hand, the cool wash of the Fade rushing to coalesce in her palm where it became a snapping whorl of white-hot fire. The darkspawn storming the gate only saw a flash of flames before it hit them, not even having time to scream before they were reduced to an acrid pile of foul smelling ash. The power rushing out of her drained her reserves and she staggered, clutching to her staff in order to remain upright and panted heavily, striving to maintain a steady source of power that was slipping from her grasp with every passing second. She could feel Fortitude there, hovering just beyond the Veil that separated the world of the dead from the world of the living, a silent witness to what was going on.

With a shiver that had nothing to do with the hot muggy air, Solona tried to shake off the chill of the Fade. Lyrium sang in her veins, drawing her even closer to the Fade, but she could only wonder at what cost. The next shiver that wracked her frame wasn't borne merely of exhaustion, but welled up from the depths of her soul, bringing with it another wave of unnatural chill that felt like death itself reaching up to try and pull her down into the Void.

The Veil was thinning at a horrifying rate in her little corner of the world. She knew it as much as she knew that she was breathing. The Horde swathed through their defenses with a bloody vengeance, crushing any opposition under the collective weight of their bodies. The death all around her was assaulting the very fabric of reality. Her efforts toward survival were only worsening the matter. Her spells came on more powerfully than she could ever expect, and while that was a boon when facing untold numbers of darkspawn, just the tinniest slip up would be made all the more dangerous because of the untold power.

A barrier had hastily been erected from shattered wagons and any debris that the soldiers could find, and it had steadily been reinforced with piles of darkspawn corpses. A roar sounded from the other side of the macabre line of defense and it suddenly exploded inward. An ogre came rushing through, a genlock dangling lifelessly from its horns where it had been run through. A horrifying chorus of screams filled the air as men were crushed by flying debris. Solona barely managed to deflect a flying chunk of wagon when it came screaming through the air with deadly intent. At the front the men rallied against the new threat. The group of soldiers still left alive gathered in a tight wedge. Among the spray of blood and body parts that resulted from the controlled charge into the disorderly lines of the darkspawn was Aedan, dark blood splattered across every available surface of his armor. Gleams of red flashed from his sword, the combination of the red skies and the blood streaming from the blade dulling the silver gleam. The wave broke on their front line, and in the brief lull Aedan called the retreat.

"Fall back!" He had to practically scream to be heard over the chaos, raising his sword in the air and making a circular motion with it. This was not the first time that the men had received such an order. They had been pushed back first from the main gates of Denerim after a day and night holding strong against the horde. The darkspawn had siege engines though and had broken through their heavily fortified defenses. Piles of dead darkspawn lay outside the city walls in heaps and mounds, but it had seemed to make very little difference in their numbers. Once the wall broke they had been retreating to any number of fallback points that served as hastily constructed choke points. Once inside the wall though, the darkspawn were proving to be night unbeatable.

The small force that Aedan had been left with to defend Denerim had been further split up into smaller groups. The elves had retreated into their Alienage when the wall broke and locked the doors behind them. Aedan sincerely hoped that it would be enough. His soldiers had been divided in half when the horde charged through the wall. One half had been driven into the marketplace and Aedan had no idea if they had survived the attack or not. His half had retreated across the western most bridge and had succeeded in holding their position for a good while. The bridge served to funnel the horde into smaller numbers across its small width, evening the odds just enough to hold their ground. Eventually the darkspawn had simply abandoned the idea that the bridge was the only way across the river and had started floating over through the Drakon and up the banks of the river on the defender's side. They ran out of arrows long before the darkspawn could breach their line of defense, and once their long-range attacks had been limited to the handful of apostates that had surfaced out of the woodwork to help in the defense, the darkspawn force became a tidal wave of death.

Solona had taken command of the apostates, the mages quickly seeing the sense of not arguing with a woman who was literally leaking Fade mist and was more than willing to put a bolt of lightning through anyone that even so much as twitched in the direction of disobedience. Politics on the battlefield were settled very quickly. It was hard to have a proper debate about the order of things when you were trying to keep from having your throat cut by thousands of deadly uncaring darkspawn.

What had started off as five mages had quickly dwindled to two. The darkspawn might not have been particularly intelligent, but all it took was one lucky arrow to end it. As the soldiers regrouped to head to the next choke point, a hail of black arrows rained down on them unexpectedly. The screams of dying men rang out over the clatter, but most survived, lifting their shields to create a metal roof that deflected the majority of the arrows.

There was a thunderous crack of power that suddenly ripped through the air. Solona whirled to see the other mage that had been standing just behind her suddenly split in half as if rent from the inside, the air around the man rippling as if with heat and crackling with a powerful charge of magic. When he rose to his feet he was not human, but abomination. An arrow stuck out of his neck, the wound obviously fatal had he not given into whatever demon had claimed him before his life all too abruptly ended. With a furious roar the abomination spread its arms and charged for her.

Fury pounded through her veins, fueling the spell that she cast to send the abomination staggering to the side, missing her by a wide margin in its reckless charge forward. The soldiers were remarkably unfazed by the appearance of such a creature. They were already one foot in the grave and were more concentrated on escaping certain death than being afraid. The abomination roared and tried to come for her again, but Solona let loose another powerful blast of magic that sent the abomination stumbling backwards again.

Straight at the incoming line of darkspawn.

She didn't wait to see what would become of the creature, leaving it up to the Maker what would become of the abomination. Hopefully the demon would wipe out the darkspawn that were trailing them and get killed in the process.

Solona ran with the soldiers, quickly finding Aedan among the shuffling mass of armored men as they fell back even farther. They were heading for Fort Drakon, the last defense for the city's survivors against the horde. "How many more holdouts do we have?" She gasped out as they ran, keeping up with the steady lope of the armored men, all of who gave her a wide berth. It was just as well. Even without reaching for her magic it was shimmering across her skin like a thin veil of water.

"That was the last one." Aedan replied grimly, his eyes always moving, keeping a lookout for any darkspawn party that might jump out at them. "Drakon is our last hope."

_Or our grave._ Solona thought with a strange calmness amongst the chaos. The chill welling up from her soul flared, as if the Fade were reaching out to take her beyond the Void already. At this rate, it was a race between the magic and the darkspawn to see what would kill her first.

They ran for the fortress, the bite of an approaching enemy at their heels spurring them onward despite the battle fatigue that had taken hold of them on. There was only so much that adrenaline could do, and they were long past the point of exhausting their reserves. Still they ran. Stopping meant death, and that reality was enough to push them well past the thresholds of endurance.

The sounds of battle exploded in front of them suddenly as they came upon a cross roads in the main path toward the fort. In the square there was a small rag-tag group of soldiers fighting off a horde of the darkspawn that had managed to penetrate far into the inner city well ahead of the fleeing men that Aedan led toward what they could only hope was their salvation. Without a pause in stride, Aedan dashed forward and struck low one of the hurlocks that had its back turned to him. The others following him struck down the closest darkspawn in a sudden wave of ferocity, providing much needed relief to the small knot of defending humans.

Mage fire crashed down on the darkspawn starting to come up from a side street, blocking it off from further intrusion and the darkspawn in the square were finished off by the combined forces. Among the shifting and confusion of the dying battle, a familiar face stuck out for Solona, and her eyes widened in sudden disbelief.

"Derik?"

The Templar turned, his armor coated in darkspawn blood and his sandy brown hair matted with more of the black blood and his own sweat, his face sooty from the ash of the burning town. As soon as he saw Solona however, a wide grin cracked his grim battle visage. "Sola!"

She wasn't sure if she should cry with relief or scream in frustration. "What are you _doing _here?" Solona asked, her voice bordering somewhere between exasperated tears and barely restrained joy. Aedan was at her side quickly, sizing up the Templar and the two men exchanged cordial nods of respect. There would be no fighting between them.

"Well, you know, killing some darkspawn. Saving these louts," He gestured toward the other men that had been fighting with him, the Denerim guards frowning at their casual dismissal by the Templar, though none argued. "I was hoping I'd see you here, though admittedly under better conditions."

"Why were you looking for her?" Aedan asked abruptly, his tone light, but his gaze hard.

Derik shrugged as if it didn't matter. "Templar business, Your Grace. Though it's been interrupted by the lovely horde we seem to have on our doorstep now, so I'm afraid it will have to wait until a slightly more proper time to perform my task as the Order dictates."

Both Solona and Aedan looked slightly taken aback by the proclamation. They had been under the impression that they were safe from Derik of all people. The Templar's easy smile did nothing to comfort them in the wake of his words. "So, if you don't mind, I think it would be best if we teamed up. Are you headed somewhere in particular?"

Aedan recovered quickly, taking a small step forward. "To the fortress. We've exhausted all of our other fallback points. The darkspawn just… keep coming." Grim faces all around nodded in understanding.

Derik surveyed the scene of hopelessness around them with a cool unruffled gaze rivaling that of Aedan's and drummed his fingers on the severely dented helmet strapped to his belt at his side, rendered useless by the depth of the dent. "Well, no point in hanging around now, is there?"

Without another word the Templar headed off toward the direction of the fort, following the main roadway up the hill that led to the imposing tower. Those that were in his group originally followed readily, the soldiers from Aedan's band hesitating a moment before following as well. Aedan and Solona hung back a moment and shared a quiet look that conveyed all that needed to be said in this new development. Their hands touched briefly in a gesture of reassurance, and they too joined the group heading for the tower. Their last hope.

•º•.•º•

Denerim was in shambles. That was the best way to describe it. Kallian had taken up a station on the roof of a house, bone weary but unwilling to give up. They had protected the Alienage as best they could, the gates that had meant to protect the humans from the elves during times of hardship and rebellion working just as well to protect those inside the Alienage from the darkspawn that ravaged the rest of the city. From her point of view, Kallian could see over the walls that surrounded the Alienage, could watch as Denerim was slowly engulfed in flames and war. She had no idea how Solona and Aedan were faring. Aedan had sent her to protect the Alienage when he saw that the darkspawn were gathering on the horizon, and she hadn't heard word from him since.

They'd had only two day's worth of knowing that the Horde was coming for them and not going toward Redcliffe. The news had been received entirely by chance, a handful of traders trying to seek refuge from the growing darkspawn threat in the south having come with the dire information. In the scare time allotted, Aedan had ordered what men were left to him to set up what fortifications they could. They fortified Denerim's walls by digging trenches and laying them thickly with a barrier of sharpened logs gathered from the nearby forests. Every smith had been gang pressed into making weapons for the resistance, and materials had been scavenged from anywhere they could get them. It had been a scramble, but by the time the darkspawn had arrived fully to make their stand, they had been ready as ever could have been expected.

Kallian had hoped that when the initial surge was broken without the darkspawn ever breaching the walls that they could hold out until help came. That hope had diminished when the darkspawn continued to attack them into the night. The final shattering blow of confidence had come when a great dragon had risen out of the forest. Its breath had been death, and with the arrival of the Archdemon came the break that the darkspawn had needed to pour in through Denerim's front gates.

Now it was a struggle to simply stay alive. The Alienage elves were not skilled with weapons, but they weren't giving up either. Shianni had rallied anyone that could hold a sword or shoot a bow and directed from below. Kallian was the eyes and ears, she and her small force of Knifers serving as a strike force when the darkspawn came in too great of numbers for their meager defenses to deter.

They were in a lull in the battle now, having just repelled a small force of stragglers that hadn't been bombarding the dwindling forces of fighters left that had been members of Aedan's token force. The soldiers left in Denerim had broken into groups, the chain of command apparently having been rent somewhere along the way. A group of warriors had been fighting at the gates with all of their might after a large number of darkspawn had already entered the city and started razing it. Currently, they were being slaughtered at the front gates, the force the darkspawn presented proving too much for the outnumbered humans to manage. The other half had retreated back into the city when they were outnumbered and outflanked, the front line receding farther and farther into the heart of Denerim until Kallian could no longer keep track of it. She didn't know what had become of them, but assumed by the spreading fires that they were dead or very nearly there by now.

Her eyes drifted over the horizon, a nervous habit that only ever kept leading to disappointment. She kept hoping that she would see reinforcements on the horizon, that the armies Theron and Alistair had gathered would finally come in to back them up… but so far every time she'd looked she'd only seen more darkspawn teeming like a living carpet, covering the land with their taint. Overhead, the Archdemon took flight with a roar and she reflexively ducked, watching as the corrupted dragon swooped over the city, lighting fires as it pleased. The creature suddenly seemed to become distracted, rearing up from its wanton destruction of Denerim to fly high over the city, its gaze directed toward the hills that Kallian herself had often looked out over. She followed its gaze and her heart stuttered in her chest, feeling something that suspiciously was reminiscent of hope at the sight.

There was an army on the horizon, but not the disorganized mass of darkspawn that she was used to seeing. It was an army with armor and marching in organized lines, heading steadily their way. The Archdemon bellowed out a challenge, swooping over the city and the darkspawn all around them gave out an answering cry. Quickly, Kallian descended from her place on the roof, dropping down into an alleyway below and rushing to the square around the Vhenadahl, the resistance silently sitting beneath the boughs of the giant tree and attending to weapons or injuries.

At her hasty entrance they all perked up, worry passing over the entire group of distraught elves. Shianni came forward first, her brows knitted together with worry. "What comes?" She asked, gripping her bow tighter.

"Good news!" Kallian called so that all could hear, her voice breathy from running. "The forces that went to Redcliffe have returned! They're marchin' this way right now, I saw 'em!" The news was greeted with a round of cheering from those who still sat around the Vhenadahl, the relief that they all felt when it was heard that help had finally arrived clear on their faces. The joy didn't last for long, however, as Oen came running around the bend, looking decidedly less cheerful. Everyone quieted when the tall lanky elf ran up, immediately becoming silent and worried again.

"Darkspawn at the gates!" He cried, heaving from having to run all the way from the Alienage entrance to get to them before the darkspawn could set upon them. "And there's an ogre with them this time!"

Kallian knew immediately what that meant, and didn't wait for the others to mobilize. She took off toward the gate that Oen had been stationed at to watch over, Shianni and the others following quickly in her wake. When she got there, it was to find the archers stationed to watch over the gate already in action, firing at a mob of darkspawn that had suddenly appeared from the marketplace, intent on trying to cut through their defenses. A fireball exploded on one of the platforms on either side of the gate, sending the archers standing there flying away from their post, either dead on impact or dying when they hit the ground flaming.

Kallian was swearing a blue streak, and Shianni wasn't far behind in adding her own curses to the mix. "Emissary." Kallian spat, looking over her shoulder to Oen. Rido and Sticker appeared now, hearing the commotion and coming in as reinforcements for the battle that would without a doubt ensue. "Shianni, try and keep a suppressive fire on the damned darkspawn. I'll see what I can do about sneaking behind the lines and taking out that Maker-damned emissary." Shianni nodded and quickly put those archers who had accompanied her to the task of keeping their meager defenses from being breached.

Once she saw that Shianni had things under control, Kallian slipped into a back alleyway, Oen, Rido and Sticker quick to follow on her heels. The four of them used the shadows to their advantage and skillfully moved around the battle until they were near the river. The ogre that Oen had talked about was still on the other side of the bridge with a whole crowd of darkspawn surrounding it. The Emissary was directing spells toward the gate in an effort to simply blast it away before the ogre got there. Kallian was frustrated to note that so far, it was being astonishingly successful.

Silent as a shadow Kallian moved from the protection of the buildings and slipped without notice behind various crates, boxes, piles of arrow-stuck bodies and other debris of battle toward the Emissary trying to batter down their gate. Behind her she knew that the others waited for a signal from her, and got as close as she could. There was still a great amount of distance between herself and the Emissary. She would have to hope that the Maker would keep her from getting pinned full of arrows on the way over. But it was a risk she would have to take. To not take it would be to damn all of the others in the Alienage behind the gate fighting for their lives.

With a deep steadying breath, Kallian collected herself, her dueling swords in hand and waited until a rush of genlocks passed her. The path was clear. She flicked her hand, knowing the others would see the motion and rushed forward in an explosion of motion, a shadow suddenly drawing up from the wreckage at the side of the gates with fury and deadly intent. The Emissary didn't see her coming at first until the first blade sliced a clean line of black blood straight up its side from thigh to armpit. Howling, the creature turned abruptly to hit her with its staff, but Kallian was more nimble than the darkspawn mage could ever hope to be. She neatly sidestepped the attack, around the back of the darkspawn again and stuck her dagger deep into the fleshy muscles of its shoulders, ripping her blade sideways in a spray of blood.

The others that had been following her moved out of their hidden positions as well and in a flurry of blade and blood the Knifers struck the unwitting darkspawn at the Alienage gates, creating a bed of bodies immediately in the wake of their reveal. Other darkspawn further behind the group nearest the gates cried out in rage and rushed forward, only to be met by a focused organized attack from the rogues. They elves didn't stay for long, however. They were outnumbered ten to one and their strategy was not to fight until the bitter end. Kallian blew a sharp whistle and the rogues scattered. Just overhead the whistle of arrows sounded sharply through the air and the gaggle of darkspawn that had engaged the elves suddenly found themselves with arrows sticking out of them.

The Knifers retreated back to the safety of the houses, slipping into crevices and gaps to small for the unwieldy darkspawn and scaled the houses with familiar ease, dropping back down on the other side of the protective walls.

Kallian drew a deep breath, wiping the burning blood off her skin with a dirty rag purposed for such a thing and scrubbing herself clean before going to join the others at the front lines. Cries of agony on both sides of the gate rose through the air as the darkspawn archers returned fire, striking many an unlucky elf. She ducked into the chaos, helping the wounded away from the scene to be replaced by another archer or warrior and tended their wounds as best she was able. She was no healer, but she'd been in enough scrapes to do them some justice if it wasn't too bad.

A cry of "Ogre!" had her turning away from the duty of binding wounds however, her blades in and rushing to the gate. The Ogre in question had crossed the bridge with a small entourage of other darkspawn, including another mage. She cursed under her breath and looked around for any of there other available Knifers, gathering them to her quickly.

"The Wardens!" Someone screamed above the din of the scrambling elves and everyone went to the gate at once. Kallian got herself on a roof, her heart thumping rapidly as if to beat out of her chest and she looked desperately for the fabled Wardens. She saw them crossing the bridge, Theron at the front with blood soaking the front of his armor and looking grim as ever. She had never been so happy in her life to see his fierce face.

The triumphant moment was ruined almost instantaneously. Out of the sky, the Archedemon swooped down with a terrible roar that shook the very earth. Some of the elves screamed when it came down, the darkspawn roared with delight, and the party around Theron quickly ducked across the bridge as the dragon destroyed it almost out from under them. There was no going back.

Determined as ever, Theron swathed his way through the darkspawn standing before them, Falonfen loyally standing beside him and tearing into darkspawn with vigor. The great stone behemoth that had accompanied them before was with them as well, and to her great relief she watched as the ogre roared a challenge at the dwarven construct and the two engaged in a fierce grappling match, saving her gate from the wrath of the ogre. Behind it all she saw the glow of mage spells and recognized the elderly woman who had been a friend of Solona's casting away from the relative safety of the foot of the broken bridge. A battle roar cut through the noisy haze of battle, and Kallian was surprised to see the stout dwarf with the flaming red beard looking surprisingly sober as he cut down enemies with broad sweeps of his axe near where the ogre and the stone construct battled. Theron left the dwarf to his own devices and went straight for the Emissary, tossing a flask of something straight at the creature where it exploded against the monster's chest and the spell it was creating withered and died without ever being cast.

"Come on, let's go help them!" Kallian yelled above the commotion and led a handful of her Knifers back down over the buildings and joined the fray. They cleared the area in front of the gate, wiping out the last of the darkspawn crowded in front of the gate. The gate was opened to allow the Wardens in then closed and locked behind them for good measure. They wanted no surprises.

Catching their breath after the battle, Theron and his companions looked around at the hopeful faces of the elves that suddenly surrounded them, though he was looking for none of them. When he spotted Kallian, his gaze remained riveted until she fidgeted uncomfortably.

"You guys have some great timing, Red Warden." She joked to alleviate the tension, and Theron shot her a rueful look at the jibe. He lost some of his intensity, for which Kallian was grateful.

"Not soon enough, I fear." He replied dourly and looked at the destruction of the Alienage, bathed in the red light of fires that raged through the town, reflecting from the haze high overhead, a combination of smoke and heavy clouds. "The Archdemon is more clever than we gave it credit for. The horde was hiding in caverns in the wilds. The force near Redcliffe was just a ruse. We were played."

By his short clipped tones, Kallian could tell that he was exceedingly irritated by the notion that a darkspawn had outwitted him, and so felt no need to press the issue. What was done was done, and the Wardens were here now. That would have to count. "Have you seen anyone else in the city?" She asked instead, changing the subject to a matter that still gnawed at the corner of her mind. "I don't know where Ammy and Basher went. I was watching the fight at the gate from the roof. The darkspawn broke through this morning."

He seemed surprised to hear that, his eyebrows arching into his hair. "They lasted that long?" Theron's tone conveyed that he was impressed, even if he wouldn't say it in as many words. "But no, we've seen little of those who were left behind. Some stragglers at the gate, but they were very few in number. Alistair is leading another group through the city, trying to catch up with the Archdemon. One of the Arls… Wolf? He holds the gate. Eamon and Fergus are clearing the city walls to keep more darkspawn from pouring in behind us. We will end this. Today."

She hadn't realized how sorely she needed to hear good news with such conviction, but the Warden's words eased a tension between her shoulders that she didn't even know she had. "Good luck." Kallian smiled mostly for his benefit, not really feeling it. It all seemed pretty hopeless with the bridge destroyed and cutting them off from the rest of the city. She hoped that Solona and Aedan were still alive somewhere in the city, but the thorn in her heart whispered that they couldn't be with all that was happening. It would simply be too good to be true. But she would keep up a brave face, the tiny bit of hope sparked by the Warden a point of light in the gloomy outlook of the future.

Theron looked at her for a long quiet moment, then finally reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder, his grip uncharacteristically gentle. "Whatever happens, know that I wanted to live through this, lethellan." He paused a moment as if he wanted to say more, then quickly slipped away, making his way through the crowd and leaving Kallian.

She stood still, surrounded by her people and watch him go, wondering if he had just said goodbye forever.

* * *

><p>Ahaha! The Dark Ritual! But where's Morrigan? Is she with Alistair? Is she gone from the party? Did Theron just say his goodbyes? Find out next chapter, when the war ends! A couple more chapters, some Epilogues, and this story is done! Oh my gosh, can you believe it's ending? I can't, and I've been writing the ending since chapter 25. Also, no, there is no Arl Wolf. Theron was simply pronouncing it that way, and he means "Wulff". Again, thank you guys for all your lovely support. I don't know if I could push through to the last without you. The last chapters and an epilogue are already written, so I'll be updating again on Friday. See you again next chapter!<p> 


	55. Blight and Bones

Outside of the Landsmeet hall, a pocket of resistance was holding its ground against the darkspawn that had invaded the city. They couldn't know that their presence had made it easier for the two live Wardens left in the city to get to the top of Fort Drakon, where the Archdemon in all of its beastly glory had landed with a wounded wing. They had no idea that they were attracting all of the darkspawn in the lower city with their noise and resistance, painting themselves as the biggest target in the city. All they knew was that they were hanging onto life by the thinnest of threads, and the darkspawn were coming to try and cut that frail little chord of hope.

A barrier of overturned carts and bodies both darkspawn and human ringed the outside of the hall, creating a small space for the soldiers and guardsmen to fight in and glean some defense from the horde. Outside of this small ring of protection, assaulted by any number of magical spells that brought devastation to the ranks of the mindless creatures they were preparing for another assault.

The ogre barreled through their defenses with a rumbling roar and the shaking of ground as it charged, lowering its horns and charged, sending men and splintered wood flying off in either direction. A rush of darkspawn filled in after the ogre, flooding past the defensive wall like a stream that had been held back by a dam. Solona dropped a fireball on the horde and the creatures let an ungodly scream rise from their collective throats as some died and others fell to the ground writing and twitching.

The ogre roared and furiously tried to shake off the fire coating its shoulders, burning at its purple mottled skin and its gaze snapped up, singling out the mage. With another terrifying battle cry the beast lowered its hands, poised for another charge and rushed forward to crush the source of its pain.

Aedan saw the beast charge, had a split second to act, and thrust Solona partially out of the way. The horns of the beast collided with him, smashing in his armor and knocking him sprawling in the dirt. Solona screamed as she went flying, the thick slap of a meaty fist breaking bones sounding as the ogre clobbered her with a flying fist.

Darkness hovered around the corners of his vision. It was hard to breathe, harder to think, and impossible to move. For a few terrifying seconds he thought he was dead, then the rush of sound and light assaulted him and he realized that not only was he alive, but he was going to have to fight to stay that way. As he rose he saw the ogre thrashing about, trying to pummel anyone that got too close. With wandering eyes he spotted the limp form of Solona, her body curled around the corpse of a dead man where she'd landed, her staff lying a few feet away and appearing entirely unconscious.

Anger gripped him then, the emotion fiercely riding his sensibilities until he suddenly found himself right behind the creature. It turned and he laid the thick muscle of its unprotected back wide with his blade, black blood spraying out of the wound as the creature roared in protest. It swung a large fist at him but hit only the stones below its feet, Aedan having moved around behind it already to sink his blade into the creature's exposed ribs. It reared, claws reaching for the sky and quickly turned, throwing out its arm in an effort to clothesline Aedan. He rose his shield and ducked, bracing himself and was pushed backwards by the force of the creature's arm, losing his brace at the last second and fumbled backwards a few steps. The ogre spread its arms and roared, beating a challenge against its bleeding chest and Aedan accepted, rushing forward quickly to take advantage of the openings that the monstrosity presented.

Arrows hissed from behind the front lines, several embedding themselves in the ogre's side. It turned to look, and that was all the time that Aedan needed to make the kill. A clawed hand came from his left and he deflected it with a powerful push of his shield. Crouching slightly he leapt, the ogre looking at him at the last second, too late to make any sort of move to stop what was about to happen. His blade found its mark in the center of the creature's chest, sinking almost half way into the muscled mass before Aedan drew it back out with a reverse pull, slashing at the ogre's other hand as it tried to claw the human off it's chest. He severed a finger and the creature fell backward under the impact of Aedan's weight, screaming in the feral way that dying creatures did when they realized their doom was upon them. He slashed his blade across the creature's throat, another spray of blood erupting from its flesh when the thick veins there were cut. The ogre flailed, unwilling to give up yet and Aedan plunged his blade through its chest again, gripping the hilt with both hands and twisted. It gave one final roar, weaker this time, then the ogre went still and Aedan withdrew his blade, backing over the creature's body then turned and jumped down.

Suddenly the earth seemed to shift, a wave of light blinding him for a brief second. When it cleared and he could see again, he looked up to the source of the light and saw nothing, then became aware of the darkspawn around them that had flooded into their barricade turn tail and run. They made horrid noises as they fled, not stopping to defend themselves if soldiers intervened to cut them down. They just kept running.

A cheer went up all around as they realized they had won, that the flash must have been the death of the Archdemon and that the Blight was now over. Aedan didn't join them in the celebration.

He sheathed his sword clumsily, uncaring that it was covered in darkspawn gore when he put it away and rushed to where he'd seen Solona land. He found her lying deathly still and touched her shoulders gently, noting that she looked unnaturally pale and instantly assumed the worst.

"No, no, you're not dead, you can't be." He whispered frantically, shrugging off his shield and bent to listen at her chest for a heartbeat. At first he heard nothing, then she coughed and relief washed over him. Thank the Maker!

"Aedan…" She whispered, managing to open her eyes, her breath wheezing when she drew it and coughed again, weakly clutching at her chest as she did so, obviously in pain.

"I'm here." He muttered in return, smoothing her hair out of her face. "It's over. The Blight's over. We won."

Solona smiled, her expression distant. "Good. I was… getting worried."

He sensed more than saw the presence over his shoulder and looked up to see Derik standing over them both, an unreadable expression on his face. "She's exhausted." He said plainly without any inflection. "I can barely sense her magic, but I can practically see the Fade clinging to her. She's in a bad way."

Aedan nodded. He knew something of what Derik was talking about from the journal that had changed everything about the way he perceived mages and the Fade. He would never be an adept a Templar as Derik, for he would not willingly imbibe raw lyrium, but he had become more sensitive to magic simply because he was aware of it in a way that he never had been before. The Fade was in Solona's eyes when she could open them to look at the two men standing over her, a troubling sign that indicated a dangerous thinning of the Veil.

Seeing how she labored for breath, Aedan immediately set her so that she lay completely flat on the ground. "Her ribs are either cracked or broken." He supplied quietly, concealing his frightening level of worry for the woman behind a likewise unreadable mask. In truth, he was simply too tired to muster an outward expression of the fear that raged against the realization of her condition. Physically wounded, magically exhausted, and sitting in the middle of a huge battleground, she was the perfect recipe for creating an abomination. Aedan didn't even have the capacity to worry about himself. For the exhaustion that seemed to reach down into his bones, or the shaking of his hands or the burning in his side from a wound that was still leaking blood through his armor.

Around them the men continued to cheer and celebrate, forgetting their exhaustion and fear in the wake of the victory, completely oblivious of the quiet suffering shared by the Templar and the young man who had led them in their most trying time.

•º•.•º•

The explosion rocked all of Denerim. Everyone felt it within the city's walls, and all gazes were drawn skyward when the blindingly white light seared through the city. In its wake, darkspawn dropped their weapon and fled, hardly even bothering to defend themselves if a soldier raised their blade against them. Cheers of victory rose from every corner of the city where surviving warriors remained, and an effort to drive the last of the straggling darkspawn out of the city was mounted.

The hurlock that Kallian had been fighting was felled with an arrow in its eye, and once it became apparent that there was to be no more resistance from the darkspawn she threw her arms around Shianni, the cousins celebrating with joyous tears in their eyes. It was over. They were safe. The Alienage was safe.

Before the celebrating could get underway in earnest, Kallian slipped away from the crowd, navigating her way through the twisting corpse-filled streets toward the solitary monolith of Fort Drakon where the flash had come from. She was not the only one who had it in mind to go to the fort and see what had become of the Wardens. As Kallian made her way steadily through the city, a cell of mixed soldiers bearing either the Cousland crest or the rampant bear of Amaranthine on their kite shields appeared, marching along in neatly formed lines.

Hope kindled in her heart, and she quickly joined the marching cell of men, picking her way to the front of the formation. She fell in step next to the human who looked at her with utmost curiosity displayed plain as day on his helmeted head. Kallian paid the awkwardness no mind, figuring that the man had no idea she was in cahoots with his Teyrn, or rather, the brother of his Teyrn. "Were you from the units inside the city, or outside?" She asked quickly, having to walk a little faster to keep up with the human man's longer pace and forced march speed.

The soldier nodded once, still looking at Kallian curiously, surprised that an elf would be so forthright. "We marched with the forces sent to Redcliffe." The soldier replied promptly despite the awkwardness of explaining things to an _elf._ But the spatter of blood covering her front and the weapons she proudly displayed on her back convinced him enough that withholding the information would do nobody any good.

She tried not to show her disappointment, and was not entirely successful. "So I wouldn't suppose you happen to know where Aedan Cousland is, do you?" She wasn't sure if Aedan actually had a title to be properly addressed by. She knew little of the various ranks of the nobility, and besides, Aedan was always just going to be _Basher_ to her.

"His Grace, Teyrn Fergus, sent us in to observe the destruction of the city and find his brother, if possible." The soldier replied in a deadpan, clearly wanting to answer no more questions from the overly curious elf. Her interestingness as a warrior had worn off on him, and he no longer had the patience to be dealing with a lesser being.

Realizing that her time was up, Kallian thanked the man with as little bitterness as she could manage and decided to follow them for a ways. When they crossed the western bridge to Fort Drakon, she began to notice piles of darkspawn stacked almost like a wall, creating random choke points along the path. At first she was intensely curious, but the more she saw of the walls, the more that the novelty wore off on her, and they became simply part of the scenery as everything else was.

She traveled with the soldiers as they made their way to Fort Drakon, only stopping to take care of stragglers that hadn't fled already, but they were few and far between. Most of the darkspawn simply ran for it when they heard the marching humans coming their way. It would take a wide net to capture all of them at the rate that they scattered. There was some grumbling from the soldiers about the efforts it would take to make sure the last of the darkspawn in the city were gone, but Kallian tuned them out, watching the streets for any sign of a familiar corpse.

When they reached a crossroads, the man leading the expedition party turned left instead of continuing on toward the fort. Kallian paused, looking up at the imposing tower from which the flash of light had come and then at the retreating backs of the soldiers. In a moment of indecision she tossed between the two options, and then finally headed for the fort, taking the road up the slight incline to the huge tower.

The courtyard in front of Fort Drakon was absolutely strewn with the corpses of darkspawn, dwarves, elves and a spattering of mages. Victims of the war, drawn here to certain death by the treaties forged before modern memory that still held all the major factions of the nation accountable in the event of a Blight. Kallian looked closely at every elf she saw, fearing to find Theron among their numbers but luckily did not find him numbered among the dead. She checked for Solona and Aedan as well, but her searching came up delightfully fruitless as well. The inside was in much the same state, though the number of slain darkspawn far outnumbered the amount of other races that Kallian could see.

With a mix of cautious hope and dread she scaled the tower ahead of the soldiers who took the time to look through every hallway and room in search of anything living, darkspawn or otherwise. When she finally reached the top floor she was thoroughly winded, resting her head against the huge double doors that lead up onto the fort's roof, her hand gripping the handle. She was scared that she would come out and see a horde of darkspawn aimlessly wandering the roof around the corpse of the Archdemon, Theron and everyone else he'd taken with him to the top lying dead in pools of their own blood.

Gathering her courage and her breath, Kallian stepped through the doors and out into the bloody red light of the afternoon. She was immediately hit with the stench of burning darkspawn flesh, a scent that had become far too familiar for her taste and she only just barely kept from puking her guts out. Lifting a sleeve to her nose, she picked her way across the roof, not pausing to look at the masses of dead bodies here, her eyes on the huge corpse of the Archdemon, the dragon lying on its side with its tattered wings spread everywhere.

Movement caught her eye and she quickly looked up to see a handful of dwarves picking their way amongst the dead. A singular golem seemed to be helping someone up, and she immediately recognized the elderly mage woman, Wynne. Ignoring the fact that she was likely to trip over a sword or dismembered arm, Kallian ran for the familiar faces, eager to hear what had become of the two Grey Wardens that they accompanied. She spotted Alistair lying a little distance away from where Wynne stood, sitting up from a pool of tainted blood that had formed around him from the bodies of over half a dozen Hurlocks and Genlocks that he had felled. She didn't see Theron though, and Wynne immediately noted her distress, coming over to comfort her.

"Kallian-"

The elf shook her head, backing away from the motherly voice that Wynne had put on. "What happened? Be straight with me. Don't… don't try and hide it."

Alistair sat up fully and shook his head to clear it of the annoying headache that had sprang up, feeling an awfully lot like a really bad hangover. He met Kallian's pained gazed for a moment, and then turned his eyes on the body of the Archdemon. "Theron, he… He slew the Archdemon. Put a sword in it's head-"

Tears immediately filled Kallian's eyes relief pouring through her. "Oh thank the Maker." She breathed, but Alistair did not look relieved. She hesitated, the brief flare of joy dimming when the warrior did not meet her gaze straight on. "That's good, right? It means he survived, right? He's just unconscious or something, like you were…" Her gaze traveled around, looking for the telltale shock of blonde-white hair that would serve as a beacon to find out wherever it was that Theron had fallen.

Alistair slowly got to his feet with a pained groan and a squeal of metal where one of his heavy plates had been bashed in and wasn't cooperating with the rest of his suit of armor. "Kallian, he can't be-"

"There!" She didn't wait to hear what Alistair had to say on the matter, spotting Theron among the carnage on the roof. Quickly, Kallian picked her way through the bodies and the gore, kneeling next to Theron who was lying on his back, eyes closed and carrying no weapons, the palms of his hands looking like they had been seared by a hot brand. He didn't appear to be breathing, and with tears pricking the backs of her eyes Kallian fumbled to try and get a feel for his pulse, her fingers pressing against Theron's long narrow neck. Behind her she could hear the rustle of armor and the stomping as Shale and Alistair quietly made their way over.

"I'm so sorry Kallian." Alistair said quietly, bending down to place a gauntleted hand on her shoulder.

But Kallian made no movements, her face suddenly quite blank. "Idiot." She whispered quietly, bursting out into teary laughter, which made Alistair worry deeply for her sanity. "He's alive!"

"He- what?"

"The dumb ass is playing possum." Kallian giggled, sniffling as tears flowed freely down her face. She wiped at them once, smearing some blood on her cheek when she did so. "He's got a pulse! It's very weak, but he's alive. He's really alive."

Alistair looked like he could have been pushed over with a feather, the dumbfounded look on his face far surpassing anything that Kallian could imagine that the man could actually pull off. He stared first at Kallian's blood and tear stained face, then at the passive expression on Theron's unconscious one. "Wynne!" He suddenly shouted, attracting the attention of the elderly woman who was going around tending to the other wounded on the roof that came to her.

When she heard the frantic tone in Alistair's voice, she immediately stopped in the middle of counseling a dwarf on how to take care of his newly repaired arm and hurried over. "Alistair? What is it?" She looked like she expected to see darkspawn tunneling up from under their feet, her staff gripped tightly in one hand and a wary expression on her face.

"It's Theron, he needs healing immediately." Alistair replied to her look of concern, gesturing down toward the elf. Without another word Wynne let her hands become enveloped in healing blue, her hands waving in the air over his body.

Suddenly Theron sputtered and drew a deep wheezing breath, his whole body tensing up and a pained expression crossed his face. As Wynne continued to use her magic, he settled down, slowly opening his eyes, his lips moving to frame a string of broken elfish that none of them could understand. His gaze focused first on Kallian, and immediately he looked confused, his brows furrowing together. "Lethallan?"

Kallain nodded furiously, taking one of his hands in both of her own and resting them on top of his chest. "Yeah, it's me. But by Andraste's damned ashes, you gave me a scare."

A wistful smile graced his face and his lifted his free hand, burnt palms and all to trail the back of his fingers over the planes of her cheek, the blood that she'd put there earlier smearing further and tucked a lock of Kallian's errant red hair behind one of her elongated ears. "I am glad you are safe."

Kallian chuckled and sniffed, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "Of course. It's going to take more than a Blight to knock me out for good." Uncaring of the others watching the scene, she threaded her fingers through his hair, her thumb resting on the crest of one of the tattoo lines on his face. "And you kept your promise, too."

His smile was pained and distant, but it was a smile all the same. "So I did."

•º•.•º•

Aedan clutched her hand, uncaring that blood smeared his palms. "You can't die, not after all this." One of the Circle's mages was tending to her wounds, healing the largest of them. The boy was ragged though, worn from the toll of the battle and nearing the limit of his endurance. The flow of magic stopped and the boy sat abruptly, shaking with fatigue.

Derik, his plate armor covered in darkspawn ichor, walked through the door flap of the tent. He put a hand on the mage's shoulder in a comforting sort of way. "You've done well. Fetch some poultices and bandages if there are any left." The boy nodded and got up to leave. With the mage gone Derik walked to Solona's side and removed one of his gloves, touching her forehead. "Her mana is depleted completely. How many lyrium potions did she take?"

Aedan fumbled for the number, the battle already seeming a lifetime away. "Five? Maybe more."

"Phew, Maker's beard, five?" Derik took off his other glove and stuffed the both of them in his belt. "She'll probably go into shock just from lyrium overdose. Or fall into a coma. Maybe sprout a second head."

Aedan squeezed Solona's hand between his own. "I'm not seeing how humor is going to help this." He muttered, dangerously close to snapping.

Derik sat, looking at Solona's face before turning his gaze on Aedan. "Well, I can be morbid if you'd prefer. I'm here to make sure that when she wakes up, it's not Sola plus an extra passenger." He leaned back in his chair, making to fold his hands over his chest then thought better of it when he remembered the darkspwan goo on him. "Mages have this crazy ability to make contracts with demons to save their lives."

"Solona wouldn't-"

Derik held up his hand, cutting Aedan off. "Death, especially mass death like what we've seen today, thins the Veil. An exhausted mage on the brink of dying is easy prey for demons in conditions like this. All of the mages here are in danger, and are being watched over by the Templars."

Aedan could not argue that point. He knew the danger as well as Derik. Maybe more. He had been to the Fade and personally fought one of Solona's demons, and could only imagine what it must be like for those demonic creatures to have an even easier time slipping between Fade and reality. He simply didn't want a second voice to echo his own fears. It made them real. Tangible. Inescapable.

The shaking mage came back, the break from healing obviously having done him some good as he'd regained a bit of his color. "She doesn't appear to have contracted the Taint." He said, laying down the wad of gauze and single poultice, a rag and bowl of water on her bedside. "The wounds need cleaning. I stopped the worst of the bleeding, but I can't use more magic to fill in the rest."

"You've done well." Derik replied with a thin smile. At the mage's hesitation to continue, Derik quietly shrugged. "Don't mind me. I'm just a precaution."

The mage nodded, nervous, then faced Aedan. "Ser, help me lift her please."

Cleaning and binding Solona's wounds took a good deal of time. Food was brought around halfway through the procedure and after the mage boy had eaten he looked a world better. Once Solona had been thoroughly wrapped and tended he looked Derik over, Aedan unwilling to move or be touched, then bandaged the Templar's bigger wounds and checked for the Taint before excusing himself.

The two men left behind were silent for a long time. It was Derik that finally broke the silence. "She needs to disappear." He mumbled quietly.

Aedan looked up sharply, his battle fatigue pushed away for the moment. "What do you mean?"

"The other Templars know that she's alive." Derik supplied quietly, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "That's why I came to Denerim in the first place looking for the both of you. Without a phylactery it is impossible to trace her by normal means. However, she is a very high-priority target. She's killed too many Templars for the Order to simply forget her. Now that the darkspawn have fled back to the Deep Roads, the Templars will be back to rounding up apostates that escaped during the chaos of the Blight."

Aedan contemplated that quietly, tracing the lines of Solona's scars with the pad of his thumb. "We could leave Ferelden."

"That's an option." Derik conceded quietly. "But the arm of the Order spans nations. You'd be best off in Tevinter if that was the way you wanted to go." Silence elapsed for a few more seconds, the sounds of the dying and the wounded outside an appropriate ambiance for their conversation.

"Then what do you suggest?" Aedan asked after a protracted silence in which he had contemplated the possible ways that they could throw off the trail of the Templars.

Derik looked at Solona's face then met Aedan's eyes. "I do not know yet. When she wakes up, I think it would be best if we discussed the matter then. Until she wakes though… you should probably get that looked at." He gestured to Aedan's side. He was still in full battle gear, darkspawn blood flaking off of his armor now that it was dry and leaving corroded patches in its wake. His side was not black however, but a dark red with his own blood. Sometime during the fight he had been wounded and the attack from the ogre had intensified the severity of the wound. He was light headed and raw from the battle and loss of blood, but was pushing it all aside with the overwhelming concern he held for the mage lying unconscious before him. "Take a break. Go get cleaned up and a little rest. I'll watch her."

He debated the offer for a long quiet moment. Aedan wanted to do nothing of the sort, but the more he thought about it, the more his body screamed at him for being reckless and abusive. His side throbbed with pain, his head fuzzy with blood loss and his hands shaking from the crash after such a prolonged intense adrenaline high. All of a sudden the days of battling caught up with him and he felt thirty years older. Silently Aedan rose to his feet, laying Solona's hand he had been holding over her chest. "I'll be back before long." He promised, not knowing if he would actually be able to sit through a bandaging without falling asleep on the medic. Or if he would be able to find one at all.

Derik simply nodded and watched Aedan go, then rested his chin on his folded hands and contemplated the childhood friend that now lay before him on the brink of death.

In the end, it was finding a free healer that had taken the most time that he spent wandering the medical compound. By the time he did find some one to help out, his only option was a tired bar maid he recognized from the Gnawed Noble. Then, just as predicted, he wavered on the brink of consciousness and eventually fell asleep on the poor woman. When he woke up, it was already bordering on nightfall. Picking himself up despite his protesting bones, Aedan made his way back to the medical tent where he'd left Solona and Derik.

He was on the other side of the Landsmeet hall from them now; he had to look that far away just to find someone that wasn't dealing with amputations. Aedan had left his armor off, there was no point in wearing it. Putting the breastplate back on would only dig into the wound at his side and make it worse. But he refused to go unarmed. There were still darkspawn afoot, and even in the middle of the hastily thrown together medical camp, he wasn't going to risk being attacked.

Just a street over from where he needed to be, he spotted Derik. The Templar had his back turned to him and seemed to be talking quietly with two other Templars that looked just as beaten up as the bloodhound. He didn't stick around to find out what they were talking about, and instead walked faster back to the medic tent, worry gnawing at the pit of his stomach that only eased up when he got to the medical tent.

He pushed open the front flap quietly, thinking that Solona was probably still asleep and walked in. Immediately he saw that the cot where she was supposed to be resting was empty, and his heart leapt in his throat. A noise attracted his attention, and he looked away from the empty cot to come face to face with an abomination. Solona's staff was held in the monstrosity's hand, its warped twisted flesh half merging with the wooden staff so that the weapon and the beast became one.

The abomination was little more than a fleshy mass for a torso, and a singular beady eye was riveted on him from the twisted lump that had once been Solona's head. The abomination gurgled at him, sizing him up, then charged with all the rage of a mindless animal. Aedan forgot about the sword in his hand.

•º•.•º•

Kallian stumbled over a dead man, slipping when his wrist shifted out from under her foot as she had stepped on what at first appeared to only be a harmless puddle. That puddle turned out to be made entirely of blood, which had pooled from the slit throat of the dead man lying next to it. She silently vowed to watch the puddles more carefully from now on and continued through the gathering of misery, desperately searching for any familiar faces.

Theron was in good hands with Wynne and her cousin. Even though Shianni had initially been wary of him, she'd decided that even she could keep an eye on an unconscious man well enough. Hovering over him wasn't going to help anybody, and Kallian desperately wanted to see who else had survived the fight. As it turned out, the answer was not very many.

Among the hastily erected medical tents it was a maze of the dead, the near dead, and the frantic living who were trying to keep those on the cusp of the Void from passing over the threshold. Most were unsuccessful at the task. Kallian passed through mostly unnoticed, keeping her head down and her eyes moving, looking for anyone that would be of help. Every once and a while she asked someone who didn't look too busy if they happened to know where the Lord of Highever had holed up. She got conflicting reports. Some said that he was dead, others claimed that he'd been single-handedly routing files of darkspawn on his own last they saw him. Slightly more reliable reports directed her in the general vicinity of the Landsmeet hall, and as she picked her way across the ruined city toward that distant goal, she came across piles of dead darkspawn strewn over makeshift barriers. She was surprised the first time, but as she came across several more stations that were inexplicably piled high with darkspawn corpses, she began to take less notice of the phenomena and began to hope that it was a good sign.

The Landsmeet hall was a wreck. The front had been painted with darkspawn blood, a ring of corpses both human and other augmenting the uneven wall of crates and barrels and wagons that served as a defensive wall. The front of the hall was missing chunks and scorched with all sorts of magical burns. The massive doors were open, one hanging ajar, its weight held up only by sheer stubbornness. Soldiers and citizens alike moved in and out of the doors, carrying bodies and supplies. A few hastily erected canvas tents stood out on the plaza, the moans of the wounded and dying making a rankling chorus that had become all too familiar. When she asked a woman tying off the bloody stump of what used to be a man's arm where Aedan had gotten off to, she silently pointed to one of the tents near the hanging door and wiped her hands off on her bloody apron before resuming her work.

Relief washed over her, glad that at least she was finally in the right area, but she kept that relief from turning into hope. She could still find him dead. Kallian trotted over to the tent, looking around for the entrance before finally finding it and poked her head in. Immediately her eyes alighted on the back of Aedan's head, recognizing him even through the heavy layers of darkspawn blood that coated him, evidence of a fierce hard fought battle. His armor had been taken off, replaced by a mostly clean shirt and he sat gingerly holding his left arm, rubbing it absently as he stared forward without noticing that someone had come inside. Kallian looked up and saw a horrible corpse lying on the cot. A pool of crimson blood had poured out of the back of the creature's chest, the sword that had killed it still sticking solidly where it had slain the beast. She'd never seen an abomination before, but right then Kallian knew without a doubt that this was exactly what one looked like.

She must have made a sound of surprise, because Aedan finally turned around to see who had come inside. His eyes were bloodshot from no rest and hard fighting, his face mostly clean though still flecked with a splash of dark dried blood on the side of his cheek. He looked like the living dead, his expression somber, though he managed a small smile to see Kallian. "You're alive."

Kallian blinked, having to tear her gaze away from the warped fleshy mass that had once been a person on the cot and turned her gaze back to Aedan, meeting his gaze. "Yeah. Barely. You made it too. Who...?" She glanced back to the abomination, too shocked by the sight to entertain any sort of conversation.

Aedan wiped his hand across his mouth, looking down at the corpse and pinched the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes against the sight. Wordlessly he bent down and picked up the staff that she hadn't seen lying underneath the cot and held it up for Kallian to take.

She didn't understand at first and gently took the staff, shooting a bewildered look at Aedan, but he wouldn't meet her gaze. With dreadful shock she suddenly realized what she was holding and almost dropped it, her hands trembling violently at the realization. "Ammy..." The word was all she could get out through the choking sob that suddenly rose to block her throat.

"She used too much magic." Aedan said grimly, his voice a harsh rasp that bordered on breaking. "She lost."

The sob that was desperately trying to escape finally managed and Kallian's vision swam with sudden tears, her hands clutching the staff so hard that her knuckles turned white. Aedan got unsteadily to his feet and suddenly she found herself pressed against his chest, her arms wrapped around him and cried loudly. She didn't even notice that he too was trembling with silently agony. They'd both lost a friend.

* * *

><p>So, I think one more chapter, and then Epilogues for what's left of the surviving cast. MUWAHAHAHAHAHA! This would have been up earlier today, but I forgot that I was baby sitting an infant. Anyway, cheers. See ya'll on Monday!<p> 


	56. Bearers of the Taint

Aedan only listened with half his attention to the coronation ceremony, his gaze wandering without real purpose. He clapped when it was appropriate, but otherwise did very little to participate in the festivities. The Landsmeet hall had been first among the things to be repaired after the city had been scoured for darkspawn. The cobbles out front had been washed of blood and the bodies carted away to a pile of rotting or burnt dead outside the walls. Somehow, the inside of the Hall had remained almost completely intact. The defensive ring that he had led during the siege had allowed no darkspawn in to defile the Landsmeet Hall.

It was filled with the remaining surviving nobility, their retainers, and a spattering of soldiers that had survived the battle as well as a small ring of Alienage elves that looked incredibly out of place, but were standing their ground. Compared to the bustling meetings that normally happened in the Hall, this was a small gathering, and the toll that the Blight had taken was immediately apparent in the small representation of Ferelden's people.

After much pomp and circumstance Alistair had been formally crowned King and there was practically a riot in the Hall of celebration once the crown sat on his head. The newly crowned king Alistair gave a few speeches to his people, fidgeting under the heavy mantle of being a country's leader, but Fergus quietly commented that he was doing better than expected. Aedan agreed silently, but was in no mood to have a small chuckle at their new monarch's expense.

After skillfully avoiding a disaster during his first address as king, other awards for bravery and heroism in the trying times they had weathered were handed out. Aedan went forward to receive his for his noble service to Denerim, but largely only smiled because he had to and went back to join Fergus in the crowd as soon as he was able. Kallian and he managed to spare a look at each other and each gave a grim nod. Neither of them particularly felt like celebrating.

The last on the list of things to do was of course also the most exciting. Theron, newly heralded the Hero of Ferelden was still looking a bit shell shocked by the whole ordeal. When he stepped out on the balcony and was met with thunderous applause, Aedan had the feeling that the elf would happily face the Archdemon again rather than be the center of attention like this. What an awkward pair. A king that didn't want to be king, and a hero that didn't want to be a hero.

The parade afterwards was simply an extension of the prolonged march in which he had to pretend that he was overjoyed to be on parade. Of course he was happy that the Blight had ended and his brother had been formally declared Teyrn of Highever. How could he not be? But when they stood out on the balcony his brother had given him a knowing look and clapped him on the shoulder. Fergus knew exactly what he was going through, and it gave him enough resolve to get through the rest of the day. Once the parties were over, he would be heading south for Gwaren on a diplomatic mission, representing the arm of the king. With Anora in prison for lack of a better thing to do with her and with Gwaren out of a Teyrn, the South was in a desperate state. It was going to be his job to make sure that everyone got along and that the restoration of the south was on track.

It would be dangerous, and they were predicting that there would be no small amount of fighting in the wake of such a huge power void. Secretly he hoped that the prediction would come precisely true. He looked forward to lose himself in battle. It would keep him from dwelling on what he'd lost.

Finally, after a day of formal processions and posturing, hand shaking and gossip, elbow rubbing and congratulatory speeches, they were all finally released to their own corners of the world. Many were heading back to their own estates to prepare for the night of feasts and partying to further celebrate their victory over darkness. After all that Ferelden had been through, the few survivors of the horrible war and ravaging Blight felt that cutting loose and spending the wee hours of the morning drunk off sweet wines was a perfectly reasonable way to pass the time. Normally, Aedan would have agreed and participated in the merriment, but Solona's death had hit him harder than that ogre's charge and any sort of joy seemed wildly inappropriate when compared with the clawing sorrow in his heart.

Fergus didn't press him, knowing that his brother needed his silence and his space. He knew his brother would recover. After all, he was a Cousland too. But it would take time, and he was more than willing to give him that. The two brothers walked in silence back to the estate, ignoring for the most part the others that wandered the streets in various states of drunkenness.

From the shuffle of the crowd and the press of bodies, Kallian appeared, little more than a splash of red among the other colors of the street, but her quiet presence was welcomed amongst the two brothers. If anyone could understand Aedan, it was Kallian, and the two gravitated toward each other in their quiet shared sadness.

By the time that they reached the estate however, it had become clear to both Fergus and Kallian that Aedan was suffering from something besides heartbreak, and their suspicions were confirmed when he suddenly collapsed in the foyer, breathing hard and a cold sweat breaking out all over his body. Worried beyond measure, Fergus knelt beside his brother who was crouched on his hands and knees, visibly trembling with his eyes squeezed shut tightly. "Aedan, can you hear me?" He asked, voice pleading with his brother, quietly begging for him to hold on. "What's wrong?"

"Burns." Aedan managed to choke out, his body shuddering again and he gasped for breath, reaching with one hand to the collar of his throat as if there were a rope tugging tight around his windpipe that he tried to pull away.

Fergus could hear his heart hammering in his ears, his breath hitched in his throat in that panicked second. Carefully, he reached out and put his hands under Aedan's chin, forcing him to lift his head and tilt it to the side slightly to get a better look at his neck. The damning mark was there. When Fergus saw it, he jerked his hands away as if he had been burned and Aedan's head dangled limply as it had before, trembling and breathing hard, completely unaware of his brother's reaction.

"Fergus? What-" Kallian started but could get no further as the elder Cousland turned his gaze on the redheaded elf.

"Taint."

The single word rang in the foyer like a death knell in the silence. Both Fergus and Kallian went several shades paler. Fergus had seen the Taint take his men after the ambush near Ostagar. He had seen the agonizing death that quickly followed the first appearance of the darkening veins in a man's neck, followed by bruise-like splotches on the skin. He sat next to his dying brother, reeling from the knowledge that he only had a few days at most to spend with the last family he had on earth before the disease took him.

Kallian gaped at Aedan, her hands trembling and her mind racing. He couldn't die. Ammy had died. She couldn't lose Basher too. In a whirl she suddenly turned from Aedan and bolted from the door, stopping before she opened it to look over her shoulder at Fergus. "You keep him alive!" She said sternly, meeting the older man's confused gaze. "Don't you dare let him die! I'm going for help."

Fergus wanted to tell her that there was no cure for the Taint, and that his brother was lost to them as surely as if someone had stuck a sword through his gut and they were simply watching him die a slow death. But she was gone, the little lithe elf girl darting out of the door before he could get a word in edgewise. The house staff by then had noticed the odd scene in the foyer and had come rushing to help carry the incapacitated Aedan back to his room where he could be tended with what little ability they had to ease his suffering.

•º•.•º•

Theron had been trying to escape all day.

Until now, it seemed like his life had been driven by a single purpose: Defeating the Blight. There had been no time for anything else. Everything he'd done for the past year was simply a means to an end in order to bring that end goal to fruition. Now, standing alive with that goal accomplished and surrounded by fair weather fans, he realized that he had never imagined himself actually being here. He realized that he had always assumed he would die in the attempt. He had slated himself for a warrior's fate along the way, whether it had been in the Deep Roads or facing the Archdemon. He would have died. He should have died. But he hadn't, and it was because of a city elf with a personality bigger than she had any right to have and a manipulative witch that had used that weakness against him.

Alistair was still hobnobbing with the other nobles, as was his duty as their new king, but Theron had abandoned him to that. He had no particular love of shemlen, even now after a year away from his secluded forest home and holding one particular shemlen as his best friend. The rest of the race simply had to prove itself to him before he would be comfortable with the masses.

Currently he had holed himself up in Eamon's library, his fingers trailing the backs of dusty tomes and searching for a title that seemed interesting. It had been a long time since he'd simply had some time to himself to relax and not worry what tragedy the next hour would bring. In his heart he knew that this was only the beginning of his responsibilities as a Warden, but in that quiet moment he could simply not care.

The sound of a door creaking open caught his attention. With a book in hand on the history of the Banns of Redcliffe, Theron rounded the corner of his row of books, expecting to see an exasperated Alistair coming to lecture him for being abandoned. Instead he came face to face with a distressed looking Kallian, her eyes rimmed red as if she had been crying and seemingly out of breath.

Immediately Theron grew worried, knowing that this had to be the prelude to some bad news that would end with him putting a sword in someone. "What's wrong, lethellan?" He set the book aside, the momentary peace forgotten.

"It's Aedan." She gasped raggedly, obviously trying to collect herself. "He's… he's got the Taint."

Theron stiffened at hearing that. The soldiers had been dealing with the Taint since the battle. Many had survived the siege of Denerim, but of those that did, a great portion had been consumed by the vile darkspawn affliction that poisoned the mind and body and led almost always to an excruciating death. He'd seen the Taint at work in Ostagar, and had seen the ghoul that Tamlen had become under its influence. "I'm sorry." He finally said after a moment of Kallian's eyes pleading with him for some resolution to the issue. "There's nothing I can do. The best thing for him now is a quick death."

Kallian underwent an immediate transformation from worried friend to a vengeful one, her shoulders visibly tensing. "What are you talkin' 'bout? You an' I both know that you've got a way around this. Make 'im a Warden."

He went to put his handle on a sword that wasn't there, leaning back slightly away from the determined gaze of Kallian, his expression gone neutral. "The Joining does not guarantee survival." Theron replied in a tone curiously devoid of inflection.

"Even if there's a chance." Her hard gaze broke somewhat, the desperate tone of a plea wriggling out of her hardened anger. "The Taint _will_ kill him. But he could be a Warden. Theron, please."

He wanted to say no. _Creators_ he wanted to say no. He knew that Aedan had a brother, someone that cared for him and a home to return to. Could he do the same to someone else what Duncan had done to him? Could he be that heartless? Kallian's desperate look finally broke him down and he sighed. "He may not want to be a Warden. If he doesn't, then I will not force the option on him."

Suddenly Kallian's arms were around his neck in a tight hug that was over as quickly as it had started. "Thank you." She muttered, her eyes full of hope. "Come on." Without another word she headed out of the Redcliffe estate, following the roads that would lead them straight back to the Highever compound. Inside the estate it was oddly hushed. He had been here when the manor was full of elves rescued from the slavers and soldiers patrolling the grounds. To have it empty of all but a few frantic maids was a little disquieting.

Kallian led him through the halls of the guest rooms on up to the second floor and only barely knocked on a closed door he recognized as Aedan's room before allowing herself to enter without waiting for a response. Inside Fergus was sitting in a chair next to the bed, his gaze haunted as he looked up at Kallian, though switched to surprise when he saw Theron in tow. Aedan was under a pile of covers being tended to by a maid, and appeared to be in a restless sleep. Theron approached the bed cautiously, looking at the warrior and spotted the thick veins on the side of his neck, darkened by the Taint. If he opened his eyes, a milky film would no doubt cover them. The affliction was spreading fast in the younger Cousland. It was a bit of a miracle that he had managed to hold on for this long without being attended at all, or even aware that he was Tainted.

"Kallian, Theron." Fergus said quietly, nodding to both. "Thank you for coming."

"I almost wish I hadn't." Theron muttered under his breath, causing Fergus to furrow his brow in confusion. Turning toward the older brother, Theron drew a breath and steadied himself. "Wake him. I have a proposal that the both of you should hear." At his glare, the maid excused herself from the room.

Fergus exchanged a look with Kallian, who nodded once. Aedan woke with some difficulty, the fever of the Taint obviously already having taken some affect on his ability to process reality like any other disease would. He winced when he tried to sit up to address those gathered around his bed, but could do very little without the help of his brother to sit him against the headboard.

Kallian's heart hurt to see him this way. She had known him for a long time, had seen him overcome so many obstacles and be hurt more times than was worth counting. For all the hardships they had seen over the past year however, he had always remained strong, dedicated. Now, he looked defeated, his quiet acceptance of his impending death obviously apparent. He didn't look like a man willing to fight against his fate.

"Theron." He greeted in a rough voice, clearing it momentarily and gave a cordial nod to the Warden. "Sorry I couldn't be at any of the ceremonies tonight. I'm ah, not really appropriate to be seen in public." Aedan's casual stab at humor only brought the mood down more, if that were at all possible.

The Warden seemed to brace himself again before speaking. "I'll cut to the chase. You are not long for this world. The Taint will consume you. If you don't die from it, you will become a creature not very unlike the darkspawn, and I will be forced to kill you if no one else will raise a blade to stop you." His gaze shifted to Fergus momentarily, the elder brother having gone slightly pale at hearing this, though did not look surprised in the least. Looking back at Aedan, he continued. "There is a way to avert this, but it comes with a heavy price. You can become a Warden. I too was inflicted by the Taint before becoming a Warden, and the Joining stopped my decent into becoming a ghoul. It will do the same for you, if you survive. Not all who partake of the Joining do. You could die as swiftly as if I had left you alone with the Taint. This is not a guaranteed cure. If you become a Warden, you will have a maximum of thirty years left to live, and will be at the mercy of the Order.

"You will have to cut all ties with your family, and your home. Becoming a Warden means giving up your life and dedicating it to the eradication of the darkspawn." He paused to let the information sink in, information that he sorely would have liked to know himself if he could do it all over again. "Knowing all this, would you attempt the Joining?"

Aedan stared for a long moment at Theron, all eyes on him. "Thirty seems a bit generous for a warrior neck-deep in darkspawn."

Theron shrugged in reply. "Some make it that long, miraculously."

Aedan nodded to that and looked at Fergus briefly. "And if I refuse? Would you kill me here?" He looked between his brother and the Warden. "Either of you?"

Fergus hesitated, but Theron nodded readily. "If you asked it, I could do no less. It is my job to eradicate the darkspawn and all of their traces. You now fit into that category."

The younger Cousland seemed satisfied by that answer, a peaceful look settling over his features. Before he could speak however, Fergus interrupted. "Don't throw your life away, brother." He said sternly, drawing the gaze of everyone in the room, including a befuddled looking Aedan. "If there is a chance, even a small one, that you can survive this, then it is your duty to do your lineage proud. Giving up is not the Cousland way. You are an heir to the honor that our family name bears."

The brothers looked at each other for a long time, then Aedan finally relented with a sigh, wincing as some pain of the Taint coursed through him and was silent a moment longer as the bout passed. "I might never come back to Highever again."

"You won't if you let this take you." Fergus replied with a certain hardness to his tone that hadn't been present earlier. "Death is final. Whatever pain you're feeling now, choosing death is not the option. I survived, you can too."

Aedan's expression flashed guilt for a moment at hearing his brother's words. Finally he looked to Theron, his expression that of someone resigned to some inescapable duty. "I will attempt the Joining."

Theron nodded tersely. "First, you must stay alive long enough for us to perform it. I'll go get Alistair, and when we return, you'll get your chance to join us in the Grey." His mission done, Theron gave both of the brothers a nod and excused himself, Kallian hesitating briefly before following after the Warden.

He cut a path out of the house, not getting lost even once and exited through the front door, remaining silent the entire time. It was Kallian that finally broke the silence. "Thank you for doing that, Theron." She said quietly, walking along at his side, matching his determined pace. "I know you didn't want to."

An inelegant snort left him at that comment. There were a few things he hadn't wanted to do, but had done anyway on account of Kallian. "You don't know the half of it." He muttered to himself, causing the girl at his side to stare at him curiously. "Just do not thank me. Being a Warden is not as glorious as the legends would make it out to be. The Blight may be over, but our duty never ends, and the choices we must make do not get easier with the passage of time. This may save him in the short term, but being a Warden is more suffering than dealing with bad dreams and darkspawn."

Kallian was silent for a moment in response, following Theron quietly without complaint. "Do you hate it that much?"

He spared her a sideways glance out of the corner of her eye. "At first, yes. Now? I am not so sure. I resent that being a Warden took me from my clan, my family, but it also gave me the opportunity to give them something back. The Dalish have a home now. We have not had one of those in a long time."

"Basher needs to keep fighting." Kallian said suddenly, her mind wandering away from the subject at hand. "I don't think he could go back to being a noble. Not really. Not after… well…" She shrugged helplessly. "I think he'd do better as a Warden. I just wish… that he didn't have to be, you know?"

Theron nodded in understanding. After all he'd seen and done, he knew that he could never go back to being a simple Dalish hunter, ignorant of the ways of the world and existing in relative peace. Battle was in his blood now, and it was as inescapable as the Taint that he bore. "What of you, lethellan? You have been fighting as well. Could you go back to the Alienage?"

She blinked in surprise at the question. "It's my home. My family's there. Besides, there's always gonna be a fight. The shem don't give up on us just because they're runnin' on hard times."

He was silent a moment before proceeding. "If you ever become restless with that life, you will be welcome anywhere the Wardens are. You've proven to be a valuable friend." Theron looked over just in time to see Kallian abruptly turn her gaze away, her cheeks dusting with a hint of pink. He stopped walking entirely and Kallian took a few steps beyond him, finally meeting his gaze with curiosity. "After we leave Denerim, I want to see you again, Kallian."

Her blush darkened and for once she was rendered speechless. "I uh, I can come visit every once an' a while. Yeah."

Theron's smile was gentle, the smile of a Dalish boy that hadn't had his life ripped away from him, a smile that came from some time before everything had been tossed in the air and left to fall where it would. "Thank you, lethellan." With the promise extracted, he started walking again, Kallian in tow with a rapidly receding blush.

They found Alistair surrounded by nobles, looking like he was barely holding on to the conversation at hand and mastering it the best that he could. When he spotted Theron walking in the door, he abruptly broke away from the crowd with a hastily muttered excuse.

"And where have _you_ been all night?" He hissed when he was within earshot, looking on the border of livid, though there was a hint of his trademark whine in his voice. "I can only talk about how we got through Denerim and up to the Archdemon _so many times_ before I start going crazy."

"Well then consider yourself saved." Theron replied neutrally, crossing his arms over his chest. "We have a candidate for a Warden recruit." At Alistair's perplexed look, Theron nodded toward the door and they left the party with all of its prying ears and eyes out into the relative privacy of the street. "Aedan Cousland has been afflicted with the Taint. I offered to let him join the Wardens, and he agreed."

Alistair seemed to consider that for a few moments, then finally sighed. "Well, I suppose that you could use another helping hand. _I'm_ not going to be able to be Warden-y, thanks to you." The mild accusation was offset slightly by Alistair's easy smile. "So, I'll go get the papers, and you get Wynne?"

"Yes. We'll meet up at the Cousland estate. Kallian," Theron looked at her again, his expression fallen to the one that he had used for the grand majority of the Blight: All business. "The specifics of the Joining can't be shared with non-Wardens. You might as well head back to the estate."

The core of Kallian that was essentially made of stubborn tenacity wanted to argue against that, but by Theron's expression she knew that she would be getting nowhere. "Fine." She mumbled and was proud of herself for not sounding completely petulant. "I'll head back to the estate. I'll… see you, I guess." Scuffing her toe against the cobblestones, Kallian turned and left to go join Fergus in his vigil over Aedan.

When she got back to the room, the younger man's condition had obviously worsened. He was still propped up against the headboard, but his eyes were closed and he seemed to be struggling to draw ragged breaths, a cold sweat having broken out. The vein on the side of his neck had grown darker; the branches of the Taint having visibly spread to the smaller veins under his chin and the first of the bruise-like blotches had appeared just over his collar. Fergus was beside himself in quiet worry, and her opening the door startled him enough to make him jump.

"They're coming." She said to his unasked question, closing the door behind herself and walking over to sit on the edge of Aedan's bed. "I don't know how long out, but they're both coming."

"If there is a more grim way… to be honored with the presence of the Hero of Ferelden and the King… then I don't know it." Aedan said with a distant chuckle, keeping his eyes closed as if asleep. The rest of the wait was spent in tense silence as they waited for the Wardens to appear and could only helplessly watch as Aedan fell further into the clutches of the Taint. When they finally did arrive, Alistair holding a goblet of some sort and both looking grim, their first words were to dismiss both Kallian and Fergus from the room.

"The goings on of the Joining are not for outsiders." Theron said tersely when the two looked to argue, though shot Kallian an apologetic look. "Please, just wait outside."

When they finally were out of the way and the door closed behind them, Alistair let loose a sigh. "Usually, we make you go out and kill your own darkspawn for this sort of thing, but given the Blight and all." He shrugged. "We thought we might skip it. Just this once."

Aedan smiled weakly. "Not sure if I could kill one of my life depended on it." He replied and with something of a struggle got his legs over the side of the bed and managed to stand on wobbly legs. "Let's get this over with, then."

The two Wardens glanced at each other silently and Alistair took a step forward, holding the goblet in both hands. In the dim light of the room, the liquid inside looked black. From behind him, Theron took a brief breath then began speaking with all the solemnity of a funeral. "Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And that one day we shall join you."

Alistair handed over the goblet and Aedan paused a moment, looking at the shallow pool of black liquid at the bottom, then tipped his head back and swallowed a mouthful of it. His first reaction was to spit it back out, but it was already down his throat, burning through his chest and joining the throbbing pain that had consumed him ever since his collapse in the foyer. Without being aware of it Alistair had taken the goblet and stepped back, the two Wardens watching quietly as he struggled against the Taint in his body, the old and the new, collapsing to the ground on his knees and holding his throat, gasping for breath that wouldn't enter his lungs.

In a matter of seconds, he fell to the floor completely unconscious. Alistair knelt, checking for a pulse and looked over his shoulder at Theron. "Well, looks like you've got a new recruit, Commander."

The Dale wasn't sure if he should be pleased or not, and settled for a grim nod instead.

* * *

><p>The hardest part about ending this story was choosing which ending I wanted. I had so many written out, at least three possibilities for each of the main characters, and they all had separate epilogues. In the end, this is the route I chose. The next couple of chapters will be extended epilogues with snippets of everyone's fate after the events of the Blight, Awakening, and even a little bit leading up to DA2. I'm going to leave myself a little room for a sequel, just in case I get the urge to continue with a little more AU and playing with the possibilities of DA3. Thanks everyone for sticking it out this far. I've really appreciated all the support, and I've loved working with these characters and seeing others grow to like them too. It's bittersweet publishing these last chapters, and I'm sad to see everyone go, but excited that at last their story is finished. See you soon!<p> 


	57. Epilogue: From Orlais, With Love

He hadn't realized how much he would miss Ferelden until he'd been away from it for too long.

After becoming a Warden, Aedan had to say goodbye almost immediately to his home country and was shipped off to Orlais to study from the other Wardens, fill them in on the events of the Blight, and do a surprising amount of political maneuvering given that they were a society of warriors and not politicians. He got a chance to use his rusty Orlesian that he'd been taught what seemed like a lifetime ago as a young noble studying to be a diplomat in every way, and the foreign language was almost as natural to him now as his native tongue.

He'd kept up a steady stream of contact with his brother, the letters he received once a month going a long way to keeping his spirits up during the three years of his exile from Ferelden. Finally, after much wheeling and dealing, he had managed to get a reprieve to return home. He'd heard only distantly the events that had happened in Amaranthine during his absence and had worried about the others that had been caught in the siege. Theron had assured him in the letter that everyone was fine, if a little ragged around the edges during the reconstruction, though was otherwise oddly silent about the whole ordeal.

Nathaniel had sent him a letter as well, going a little bit more into detail about the condition of the city of Amaranthine, cataloguing for him the damage done by these talking darkspawn, though was likewise oddly quiet about any explicit details. Whatever had happened, it was being kept very quiet; though even in Orlais he had heard whispers of the unnatural event. There was nothing like a rash of talking darkspawn to get the normally tight-lipped Grey Wardens talking.

Re-learning the language, keeping his nose clean, training to be one of the Grey, and trying to puzzle out the events in Amaranthine kept Aedan occupied. He would never forget Solona, but the pain of losing her was not a raw wound anymore, either. Fergus had been instrumental in helping his quick recovery, and the two brothers shared their losses and helped each other move on.

Now, back in his home country, Aedan was determined to get a leave of absence for at least a little while to visit Highever. With the Blight over, the land went back to being peaceful. There was political unrest in Ferelden, but rumor had it that the lone monarch Alistair was handling it all with a surprising amount of grace and had won the hearts of the people with his down-to-earth ruling style. Distantly, Aedan was proud of him. He'd known that Alistair would have had taking the kingship hard, but to hear of him handling the situation so well gave him real hope for the country's future. Fergus, after all, couldn't do it all alone, though he tried his best with the corner of the world that he had control over.

Amaranthine was much as he'd remembered it. The city still smelled of salt and the sea, though many of the buildings were new. Obviously, they had been repaired after the darkspawn attack that had nearly leveled the city, but otherwise it was the same. Aedan was leaning against a low wall on the waterfront, watching the bobbing of the ships and boats in the harbor with his back to the city, just enjoying the feel of home. It wasn't Highever, but it was close enough that he could almost taste it, and his longing to see something familiar was sated for the moment. He'd sent word of his arrival, and his long time friend Nathaniel Howe was supposed to meet him here at the harbor around noon with Keran in tow. The mabari hound had to be left behind when he went to Orlais as part of a breeding program to help revitalize the severely dwindled mabari population. He'd missed the big war hound something terrible, and was looking forward to seeing his big slobbery face.

Initially upon arriving in Amaranthine for the first time since the razing of Highever and his becoming a Warden, Nathaniel and Aedan had hated each other. Nathaniel had no idea about the evil that his father had committed, and so soon after the loss of his family and Solona, Aedan had not felt particularly forgiving or understanding. He'd killed Nathaniel's father, and that's all the other noble knew, and that was enough for him to continue hating his childhood friend.

In Aedan's absence to Orlais, Theron had helped Nathaniel understand what had happened between the Couslands and the Howes. The first letter came a year and a month after their initial meeting, Nathaniel's apology coming as a surprisingly diplomatic and distant document. With enough time away from the bitterness that he'd left in Ferelden, Aedan had replied with what practically amounted to a novel chronicling the events leading up to Rendon Howe's death, and spared none of the gruesome details or his regrets and fears that sprang up after the usurper Teyrn's grim demise. Aedan had felt that whatever had happened between them, Nathaniel deserved to know. The next reply was long in coming, but it contained a tentative thanks for being honest about the whole affair and a brief recount of his time in the Free Marches and an account of what had happened in Amaranthine, fleshing out some of the fuzzy details that Theron had conveniently forgot to mention in the letter he had received earlier.

The letters from his brother and Nathaniel had been a boon, and now that he was back in Ferelden, Aedan appreciated them even more. He couldn't wait to see a friendly face, to talk with someone that had likewise been outside of the country for an extended period, and above all, not have to speak Orlesian. It was still an hour or so until the predetermined meet time, so with time to kill Aedan left the harbor and went to explore the city some more. Just listening to the haze of chatter in his native language was a simple enough pleasure to lift his spirits higher, and he browsed the market just to be in contact with simple people. The parade of colors on the people in Montsimmard and Val Royeaux were both entertaining and overwhelming, but nothing could compare to the quiet dignity of the Ferelden people.

He was browsing through a stand of elegantly carved wooden idols depicting everything from the Chantry Sun to Andraste and even the King and listening to the shopkeeper babble on about the grain of wood when a flash of movement caught the corner of his eye. Aedan stilled, looking up to see if he could catch the movement again, then scanned the marketplace when he didn't see whatever had caught his attention. Among the bustle of the crowd, he saw nothing of particular note and at first was about to brush off the notion that he had seen something when he spotted a single figure standing in the middle of the square.

Among the tide of movement stood a single person, completely stilled, hooded face pointed directly at him. The two stared at each other for a long moment, then the hooded figure suddenly turned to leave at a brisk walk. Hurriedly, Aedan excused himself from the carver's long explanation on how walnut trees were his favorite and rushed after the hooded person fleeing him. At first he simply followed at a brisk pace, but quickly had to start running to keep up. The hunt was on, and whomever it was that he was chasing was leading him away from the bustling parts of Amaranthine to the quieter neighborhoods bordering on the outskirts of the trade city.

The brief chase came to a sudden stop when he found himself at the mouth of a dead end alleyway between two houses with thatched roofs. Standing at the end of the alley was the hooded person and a Templar. Immediately his guard was up, his hand snapping to the hilt of his sword. In the three years that he'd been in Orlais, his opinion of Templars had changed very little. Rumors of his involvement with a mage had traveled far ahead of him, and while his being part of the Grey Wardens protected him from Chantry investigation, that did not mean that the Templars who knew didn't take every opportunity to try and prod at him.

Unbeknownst to the Chantry and the rest of the Wardens, he had kept the Templar journal, and had become adept at everything the book had to teach. Becoming a Warden had done something to him, and suddenly it had become easier to perform the more difficult abilities that defined Templars, even without the use of lyrium. He had asked about it with a few of the other Orlesian Wardens that he had come to trust, and they had confirmed his suspicions. The Taint, for whatever reason, gave the Wardens something besides a shorter lifespan and the ability to sense darkspawn. It gave them abilities, such as the kind that Templars had. And there was no better way to fight a Templar than being one, he'd come to discover.

The Templar at the end of the alleyway didn't seem to want to fight, however. He didn't even touch the sword at his side, but instead reached up and pulled the helmet from his head, revealing a familiar pair of brown eyes and a cheerful grin that had disarmed many a fight. "Long time no see, Cousland."

"Derik!" Aedan exclaimed, bewildered and dropped his hand from his sword, straightening in surprise. "Long time indeed." He flicked his gaze to the hooded person standing at Derik's side, who had gone to retrieve a quiver and a bow that was leaning against the wall, slipping the weapon over their shoulder and remaining silent. "What brings you to Amaranthine?"

"Templar business." Derik replied with a sly smile that had Aedan raising his brow in curiosity. "Though this time, you might actually like it. Maura?"

The hooded archer, which Aedan now recognized as being female looked up at the Templar briefly and the two shared a quiet look before she raised her hands to her hood and pulled it off her head. "Hello, Aedan."

She was different than he remembered, her brown and blonde hair cut short with darkened skin that had seen whole summers in the sun, but her eyes were the same paralyzing blue from Redcliffe. Gone were the mage robes and peasant garb he had been accustomed to seeing her in, replaced instead with light leather armor of average quality. With her hood and cloak pushed back, he could see the way she stood and recognized the look of a warrior. Physically, she had changed much, but in those blue eyes he saw the Solona he knew. Aedan stared openly, unable to believe what he was seeing. "It… you can't be…"

She offered him a small little smile, and dipped her head as a show of respect. "I am Maura Finley, of Southron hills." She said as way of explanation, walking forward until they were within arm's length, her eyes watering with unshed tears. "And I've missed you terribly."

Suddenly they had their arms around each other, hers around his neck and his around her waist. Her leather armor creaked against his chain and plate Warden uniform but neither paid particular attention. It was enough that they could hold each other again. After a long moment holding each other, Derik finally had enough and cleared his throat loudly, prompting Aedan to let Maura go, though kept his hands on her waist.

"But how?" He asked, still bewildered, his head spinning. He wasn't sure if he should be angry or glad that the three years he had spent mourning her were in vain or not. "I killed you. That abomination…" The scene that he had buried in his mind flashed to the fore in a rush of remembered fire and blood. The fact that he thought the abomination had been Solona made putting the sword through the monster's heart sting all the more. He had killed her. Or so he thought.

"It was his idea." Maura said with a guilty grimace, glancing over her shoulder briefly at Derik who was leaning against a nearby wall, his hands fold casually in front of him while he watched the reunion.

Derik righted himself now that he was part of the conversation, walking to stand beside the two. "It had to be done if she was going to be free." He said quietly, keeping a sharp eye on Aedan. "The other Templars knew about her, and knew she was with you. I was part of a party of several others who had come to enact the Rite of Tranquility on her, and put you and your brother in chains until a thorough investigation had been completed. The darkspawn put our mission on hold, luckily for you. After you left, I took her elsewhere and replaced her with a mage that was on the verge of turning into an abomination. Once transformed, all mages look alike. The others felt the flux of power when the mage turned and we all came to investigate, only to find that you had already slain it. You didn't know it, but at the time the other Templars were making sure that nothing shifty had happened. They were prodding you for information. I couldn't tell you of the switch, or else they would have figured it out, and all of it would have been for nothing."

Aedan didn't remember much of the interrogation. After Kallian had come in, the Templars had shown up and the elf was ushered out as the Chantry's dogs examined the abomination's corpse thoroughly. Some of them had asked him questions that he had been too preoccupied with grief to remember exactly how he had answered. He only knew that afterwards they left him alone and took the abomination with them, claiming that even as a corpse it could be dangerous.

Looking between the two conspirators in Solona's apparent death, Aedan felt a brief pang of anger. "Why now?" He asked, looking first at Derik, then at Maura. "It's been _three_ years."

The Templar came to the rescue then. "It was my fault that she couldn't see you before now. I had convinced the Templars with me that she was dead, but it took more than that to convince the rest of the Order. It took a while before her name was dropped from the list, and by that time, you were in Orlais. There's no more dangerous place in the world for a mage than Orlais, the seat of the Chantry. Getting word to you was risky, Warden or not. Instead I had her join The Collective, and she's been making friends with them while we waited for you to get back to Ferelden."

"I wanted to tell you." Maura said immediately after Derik was done talking, her small hands on his forearms, her eyes pleading. "As soon as I woke up in Denerim and Derik told me what had happened, I wanted to go to you and tell you that I was fine. But if I had… I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve to go through what you did."

Aedan looked at her face, taking her in quietly, then pulled her forward in another hug and she buried her face against the crook of his shoulder, her arms wrapping around his waist. "I'm just glad that you're alive."

She trembled in his arms, squeezing his waist briefly before finally pulling back enough that she could look at his face again. "There's… something else that I need to tell you." Aedan only quietly stared, waiting for her to go on without prompting and Maura had to take a deep breath before continuing. "It's… probably best of I just showed you."

Stepping out of his embrace, the mage-turned-archer looked at her Templar guardian and led the way out of the small alleyway with the two men in tow. She talked quietly with Aedan about everything that she'd done and seen while they were separated, telling him about the Mages' Collective and it's underground network of free mages that had either escaped the tower or were born outside of the Chantry's laws and how they were a group trying to live a normal life. Some Templars were involved, like Derik. They took care of the maleficar that roamed the lands before the Chantry could begin to get involved. In some ways, they were some of the Chantry's largest supporters, recognizing that mages, even with the best intentions, were dangerous. At the same time however, they fought the restrictions of the Chantry, trying to give the members of the Collective more freedom than what was normally allotted.

Her skills at reading people had become a vital asset to the cause, and she was often turned to whenever the issue of a mage's intentions came up. She had disguised herself as a small game hunter, even learning how to use the bow and skin her kills. Her magic was still very much a part of her, and it always would be, but without having to worry about the Templars tracking her down every step of the way, she had found herself gravitating toward healing more than hurting, and her use of blood magic had fallen entirely by the wayside.

The trio arrived at a small modest house on the outskirts of town. Maura knocked on the door and entered when beckoned, sparing a quick glance at Aedan over her shoulder before she disappeared inside, Derik following shortly after and leaving the Warden to enter last. Inside was as humble as the outside, obviously a woman's place of residence if the curtains had anything to say about it. The woman who most likely owned the house greeted them, and to his surprise found that it was an elf. She greeted Maura and Derik warmly, then turned to Aedan with a broad smile. "And who have we here?"

"Aedan, of the Grey, ma'am." He replied promptly, bowing his head a little.

The small elf woman seemed delighted with his manners and her smile widened even more. "Oh, but he is everything you said, miss." She said to Maura. "And little Glynn is the spitting image of him."

"Glynn?" Aedan asked, looking for answers from either of the two that had brought him here.

Derik revealed nothing but an absent smile, though Maura turned her face aside, a dark blush staining her cheeks. "Talia, is Glynn in his room?" She asked the elf instead, refusing to meet Aedan's gaze. The elf woman nodded yes and tittered a little bit about how whoever this Glynn was had to be sent by the Maker himself to be the embodiment of such a good spirit. Her blush deepening slightly, she finally looked up at him. "Please, follow me." She walked further into the house, Aedan following behind without question, his curiosity peaked. She opened a door that led to a small room at the back of the house and stepped aside to allow Aedan over the threshold.

Looking at her with a question in his gaze, Aedan walked in and saw a simply adorned room with a single bed. It what was on the bed, however, that pulled him up short. A child was tucked under the covers and deeply asleep with his fist curled up against his mouth. The boy couldn't have been older than a couple of years and had a mop of dark blonde hair on his head. Aedan looked over his shoulder at Derik, noting with a sinking feeling that the Templar's and the child's hair color were almost identical.

It felt like being stabbed in the gut. Staring at the child, the urge to simply walk away almost took him completely. With sudden vehemence he wished that he'd never come. She could have just told him. He didn't need to see the Templar's child for him to believe that the two had rekindled their old relationship and were back together. She didn't even have to let him know she was alive, for that matter.

Maura touched the back of his arm gently and it took all of his self-restraint not to flinch away from her hand. "His name is Glynn." She said in a soft voice barely above a whisper so as not to wake the boy. "Glynn Cousland."

Bewilderment pushed aside the knife that had briefly entered his heart, and he turned his astonished gaze to the Templar standing just behind them.

A smile with the distant echoes of sadness graced Derik's face briefly at Aedan's shocked expression. "She's _your_ little wildfire." He said after a moment, then lifted his chin and indicated the sleeping boy. "And so is the tyke."

Aedan stood dumbstruck in the doorway, then finally jerked into motion, walking forward into the room. He stopped at the edge of the bed and with a creak of leather and the jingle of metal knelt down next to the bed, pulling off his right glove and tucked it in his belt. Gently he reached out toward the sleeping boy, brushing his hair back from his face. The child squirmed a little and squeezed his eyes tightly shut, but otherwise did not wake up.

Years ago back in Highever, his father had commissioned a portrait of his two children when they were fairly young. In the old painting, the Teyrna of Highever had been sitting regally with her two young boys. Fergus had been around seven at the time, and looking particularly dour for the event while Aedan was perched precariously on his mother's lap, being maybe five. It had hung in the hallway leading to his parent's room, and as he'd grown up, he'd memorized the portrait. Now, looking at Glynn, he saw the same face that had looked out from his mother's lap, but with blonde hair instead of a brown that was nearly black.

Finally woken by the attention he was receiving, the toddler looked up at the strange man touching his head, wide grey eyes staring at Aedan curiously. Maura was there quickly at his side, brushing against Aedan as she knelt down and took the young boy's hands before he could throw a fit at being woken from his nap.

"He looks just like you." She said quietly, glancing over to Aedan to see him transfixed by the boy, unable to take his eyes off of him.

"He does." Aedan agreed in a quiet voice. "But how?"

"The Circle teaches mages how to prevent conceiving children." Derik said from the doorway, leaning against the frame casually. "It's a working system, but it's not infallible, especially if the mage in question sleeps with an untrained Templar who may nullify the magic on accident." Aedan looked at Derik, the Templar's quiet explanation ending with a shrug of his shoulders. "Despite our best efforts, things like this have happened in the Circle more often than we'd have liked."

"I knew almost right away." Maura said in a hushed voice, soothing her son back to sleep easily enough. Looking at Aedan, she touched the palm of her left hand with her fingers, and he understood immediately even if he couldn't see the scars underneath her leather gloves. "Getting out of Denerim was difficult, and when I used my magic to scan for any Templars in the area… I felt him." She touched her stomach, a soft look crossing her face briefly, though it was gone when she turned her eyes on Aedan again. "I never wanted to keep him from you. It was never my intention for any of this…"

Gently, he reached out and took her by the shoulders, pulling her against his side in a one-armed embrace. "I know." Aedan said softly, finally taking his eyes off his son and looked at Maura, who seemed on the verge of tears again. "I know. I'm only sorry that I wasn't there for any of it."

Her returning smile was watery, but genuine. "But you can see him now. He's as much yours as he is mine. Maybe more. He's just so much like you. I-" Maura's voice cut off and she choked on her next words, the tears she had been holding back finally spilling over. Before they could wake Glynn up again, Aedan pulled Maura to her feet and escorted her out of the room, closing the door gently behind him with a click.

Outside of the room, she seemed to gather herself together a little more and after an encouraging squeeze on the shoulder from Derik had stopped crying all together. "Sorry. But please, do come back and see him. I'd like Glynn to get to know his father."

"I will." Aedan replied with quiet conviction, then turned to Derik and held out his hand. "Thank you for watching over them for me."

The Templar raised an eyebrow to that, but clasped hands with the Warden and gave a firm shake. "Eh, it was fun while it lasted. I'm not much good with kids though, so you'll have to handle that bit."

"I will." He said again with a gentle smile this time. Suddenly he remembered that he had somewhere to be and straightened. "Is it alright if I come back later today? I promised to meet up with Nathaniel-"

"Of course!" Maura supplied quickly, looking around for the elf woman that owned the house. "I'll tell Talia that you're welcome any time you want to come by. We might not always be here, but even if we aren't, see Glynn anyway."

"I'll do that." The three left the house, thanking Talia for watching over Glynn before they exited completely, Aedan still in a mild state of shock, but was handling it well. "Solo- Maura, what do I say? What do we tell people about Glynn?" He asked, catching himself before he could finish the name, seeing the look that both Derik and Maura flashed him.

She shrugged casually. "Whatever you say, I will abide by. Just remember: Solona Amell is dead. She died an abomination at Denerim."

He nodded in response, and then enveloped her in a hug that lingered for a long while, absorbing the feel of her after so long separated. "I'll come back tonight if I can. We have a lot to talk about."

"We do." Maura agreed with a smile and let him go, watching as he disappeared back toward the city with a wave.

Nathaniel was waiting for Aedan at the harbor, who arrived slightly out of breath from jogging nearly the whole way. Looking him over with a calculating eye, Nathaniel Howe crossed his arms over his chest and leaned slightly to the side. "I didn't think you'd forget the city so soon, Aedan. What took you?"

When Aedan straightened, his breath caught, it was with a grin on his face that was nigh uncontrollable. "I met an old friend and lost track of time. Sorry for making you wait."

Nathaniel eyed him suspiciously, but seemed to shrug his mental shoulders and let the strangeness of his companion's behavior slide. For now. "So, is Amaranthine like what you remember? She's been through some hard times, but…"

"It's better." Aedan replied cheerfully, making Nathaniel even more suspicious. "But come on, show me around. It's been a while, and I only ever got to see the Keep once or twice."

Still wondering what exactly it was that had gotten into his friend, Nathaniel hesitantly complied, leading Aedan back in toward the city and away from the sea. He knew that Aedan was eager to come home, but hadn't expected him to be _this_ eager. Orlais must have been worse than he let on in his letters.

Oblivious to his friend's growing concerns, Aedan walked the streets of Amaranthine at his side, feeling like a new man. The three years lost could never be taken back, but she was alive, and he had a son. A weight he'd grown so accustomed to carrying that he'd hardly even noticed its presence had lifted with that news, and as strange as his behavior might seem to others, Aedan couldn't care less. For once, he was happy.

* * *

><p><em>When Warden Cousland returned to Montsimmard with not only a wife, but a child, most of his companions in Orlais were shocked. Not only because of the strange turn of events, but because he seemed content with his role in life instead of neutrally ambivalent towards the Grey Warden order as a whole. He continued his job as a recruiter, though it was always quietly understood that his loyalty lay with the Warden-Commander of Ferelden rather than his superiors in Orlais. When the Hero went missing some years later, Aedan was assigned to a different post in the Free Marches, and likewise went missing during a top-secret investigation. Maura Finley went with him on the assignment, and their son was left to the caring hands of Fergus Cousland, who had yet to remarry and was strongly considering his nephew for an heir to the Teyrnir. What became of the two is unknown, though there are rumors that the Grey Wardens all across Thedas are undertaking similar missions in the Deep Roads.<em>

* * *

><p>Finally! A happy ending! After all the nonsense I put these guys through, I had to leave it somewhere better than "lol, she died". Sorry for putting ya'll through that, but it needed to be done. Holding off that extra chapter for the "surprise, not dead haha" reveal seemed to have worked better than I'd hoped! Good on you guys who figured that Derik should have had something to do with her escape. Poor Aedan was just left in the dark about the whole operation. And so were you! Hehehe<p>

I thought it appropriate that I end the epilogue with a blurb like the things you get after completing DA:O and Awakening. Your Warden in the game gets extra DLCs after the main quest, so this and the next epilogue are also the "DLC" versions of what happens after Origins. The next chapter will be the last.

So, throughout this story, I've been "playing" it like the other origins died and/or never existed. Like with Kallian's father being taken by the Tevinters. Only the Landsmeet was really impacted by the presence of the extra origins. So, in this instance, Aedan more or less took the place of Loghain as if he were spared in the grand scheme of things, and was shipped off to Orlais before the issues of Awakening happened, returning only after not only the events of Awakening, but also Witch Hunt and The Golems of Amgarrak. He appeared very briefly at the beginning of the Awakening sequence, just long enough to visit with Nathaniel and keep Theron from cutting his throat. I attribute his knowing Orlesian to the fact that during the height of the French Empire, every noble of other countries learned French. I figure that since Orlais is currently the most powerful human empire, nobility of other nations would probably learn at least some Orlesian. Even Fereldans (who are like the English, and still learn French in primary school anyway).

Also, after the final epilogue, I think that I'll publish a separate "story" of the alternate endings that I had planned out for the characters, since you guys seem interested in them. But note, what happened in this story is "canon" for the HoH universe.


	58. Epilogue: The Clan You Make

Outside of Denerim's gates, the air had seemed lighter, somehow. As if the weight of the city life inside of the country's capital had somehow even affected the weight of the sky on the people below it. Kallian had never been out of the gates for any long periods of time, nor had she ever been so far away from the city as she was now. In any other circumstance, she would have enjoyed the open spaces and the freedom that came with being outside of the city's walls. But she wasn't happy, and she never would be.

Amaranthine wasn't far away. She had already traveled far to get there, walking almost non-stop from when she started out of the Alienage to now. She should have been exhausted from the hard traveling, but Kallian was far past the point of tired. She was in a state of numbness now, the past few days having been enough time to let the anguish of the city consume her and drown out all of her other emotions until there was nothing left but the need to keep moving. So that's exactly what she was doing.

There was a vague idea in her head that she would get to Highever. She'd heard that Basher was back in the country and had holed up with his brother, Teyrn Cousland, but Highever seemed very far away to the bone-weary elf. She would stop in Amaranthine, then, and hopefully the Wardens wouldn't mind if she crashed for a few days in the barracks or something. Theron had said that wherever the Wardens were she'd be welcome. She hoped that was still true. It had been a month since she'd seen him, but the invitation to come to Amaranthine was offered anew every time he visited the Denerim Alienage. But things changed. Or they didn't, depending on which side you were looking from.

The Vigil's Keep of Amaranthine loomed out of the red skies of sunset by the end of that day, though Kallian barely noticed. She was simply putting one foot in front of the other at this point, going for the sake of walking and with barely a thought to what she was doing or where she was headed. The patrol of Wardens went completely unnoticed by her when she passed them by. Nathaniel Howe was the first to spot her, initially confused as to why a lone elf would be trudging the roads at near night. When he reported the sight to Theron however, the lone elf girl suddenly found herself surrounded by Wardens that to her tired mind had simply materialized out of the golden twilight that encompassed the rolling Amaranthine hills.

"Kallian! By the Creators, what are you doing here?" He asked hurriedly, his rolling Dalish accent in full force as he came upon her, touching her shoulder briefly.

Her smile was small and slow in coming, the exhaustion of her trip clearly displayed in her eyes. "I'm glad to see you too." In the next breath she collapsed and only through Theron's cat-like reflexes did she not hit the ground.

Startled and worried, Theron looked at the others staring just as curiously at the sight. Gently he gathered the unconscious girl in his arms and lifted her, cradling her slight form against his chest. "Nathaniel, finish the patrol. I'll take her back."

The human Warden nodded, though lingered a moment instead of heading off immediately. "Are you sure that you want to go alone, Commander?"

Theron shrugged Kallian into a more comfortable position, bearing her weight easily. "If I get killed a hundred feet from my own doorstep, then I probably deserve it. Finish the patrol." Nathaniel snapped off a salute in understanding, took the others in their party, and left to finish the last leg of their patrol before they were to turn in for the evening. With an unconscious Kallian in his arms, Theron could only wonder what exactly had happened to drive her so far from the city that she never left.

•º•.•º•

It was a bright light that woke her. Underneath a window in the Vigil's Keep of Amaranthine, Kallian was struggling to stay asleep when the sunbeams of mid-afternoon were trying to dictate to her otherwise. Groggily she reluctantly woke, only to find herself in a strange place. At first she panicked, reaching for her weapons to find them not on her person. Wildly she looked around and saw all of her things piled neatly on a stand next to her bed, which was definitely not a product of the Alienage that she had grown up in. The bed was moderately sized and not uncomfortable, which was saying a lot. She was more than used to the thin lumpy hole-in-the-wall that she normally stayed in, and this spacious room with its narrow stone windows was a drastic change from her little homey hovel.

It was only after a moment staring at the walls and out the windows that she remembered she had left Denerim entirely. A flash of Theron's face staring at her worriedly against the backdrop of golden twilight crossed her eyes, and she relaxed somewhat. She had made it to Amaranthine, at least, though her feet were protesting even the thought of continuing to walk the way to Highever. Her decision made by her aching soles, Kallian decided she would weasel a couple days of room and board out of the Wardens before continuing on to Highever.

Before she could begin to wonder where the nearest source of food would be, there was a soft knock at her door and the Hero of Ferelden cautiously poked his head in. When he saw that she was awake and decent, he came in the rest of the way, leaving the door cracked behind him. "You gave us all quite a scare, lethellan." He said gently, walking to the side of her bed and checked her over briefly with his eyes before perching on the edge of her bed near the foot. "I had Velanna give you a once-over. What happened? She said you were badly injured and patched you up the best she could."

For the first time, Kallian realized that it wasn't just her soles that were sore, but her sides and her arms as well. Touching her wrists out of nervous habit, she looked away from Theron's dark gaze, out at the sliver of sky she could see through the window. "Shianni's dead."

The quiet confession was made with a break in Kallian's voice. Theron stilled hearing that, his eyes widening in surprise. "How long ago?"

"How long have I been walkin'?" Kallian asked bitterly, turning her eyes back on him, revealing for the first time the tears that shimmered in her green gaze. "As soon as they killed her… I ran. I tried to stop them, but it was just…" The first tear splashed on her arm and Kallian ducked her head, folding up her knees and buried her face against them. "Maker, _why?_" She hissed through choked off sobs, struggling valiantly against the urge to break down, though it was a losing battle.

At first, Theron didn't know what to do, then he stood and came to her side, placing a hand on her shoulder and suddenly found himself with his arms full and simply held Kallian as she shuddered with grief and rage. "T-t-they dragged her outta the Alienage." She finally managed through her sobbing, her fists tightening until her knuckles turned white. "Things were goin' so well. It- it was fine. Then the _humans_- there was a riot." She was speaking brokenly as fast as she could through sobs, unwilling to lift her head to look at him. "They killed Valendrian. He- he only wanted them to stop. Shianni, she got so angry. We all did. But they were just… And I tried. Maker, I _tried_. To stop them. But they grabbed me too and it was just like that wedding all over again. And they- they-"

The intensity of her emotions got the best of her and she finally broke down in a crying heap, holding onto the front of Theron's shirt as if it were the last tangible thing in the world. The Hero was struck dumb and had nothing to say that could possibly ease her pain. He simply held her and waited until she calmed down, her sobbing becoming tearful hiccupping. "Th-the others t-tried to save her." She stuttered through her tears, squeezing her eyes shut tight against the scene playing out in her head. "But the g-guards came too late. They got Shianni, stoned her to death in front of the Hall. Maker, the screaming! And the _boys_, I- I told them to run. To get out while they could. But they fought. We'd been fighting for so long… we forgot how to run. I-" She paused, inhaling deeply. "Oen, Rido, Sticker, Elai, they all tried. But the guards… Maker, and they just wouldn't _listen_. And the shems were screaming for blood and the King's men came but it was too late…"

She shuddered again, harder this time and rested her forehead just under Theron's collarbone, tugging on his shirt once. "I… I'm the only one left. All the rest…" She drifted off and Theron made no attempt to make her finish the sentence.

"You'll be safe here." He finally said, absorbing her story and piecing it together. Theron hadn't heard of the riot in Denerim. It was possible that Kallian was the first of many messengers he would get of the situation. As the only other elf on the Landsmeet council, Theron and Shianni had been close allies in the political ring. It was easier to change policies when the Hero of Ferelden was backing the proposals, and the Denerim Alienage had seen some justice following her appointment as Bann. He'd come to know the Alienage elves a little better, though hadn't spent as much time with them as he'd have liked. His duties as a Warden always seemed to supersede his duties as an Arl, and so had no time for cordial diplomatic visits with the elfin Bann and her hot-headed cousin.

He'd been hearing rumors for months of the unrest in the human population of Denerim, but no one had seemed to think that it was ever going to get as bad as it had. It seemed that they'd all be fooled, and Shianni had paid the price. He would have to talk to Alistair and see what was going on in the capital for something to happen like this, and he would have to increase the security in his own hold for the elves that lived in the Arling. If he could help it, there would be no repeat performance under his watch.

Kallian finally let go, seeming to have cried as much as she was going to cry for now and folded her hands in her lap, her head hanging low. "I can't go back to Denerim. Never again. There's… nothing left for me there."

His heart broke to hear Kallian sounding so defeated and reached out to put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You can stay here as long as you need." He said quietly into the silence that had elapsed between them. "Amaranthine could use someone like you here. _I_ could use someone like you here."

She lifted her gaze, studying his face carefully before finally nodding. "I'm… not really plannin' on goin' anywhere. Thanks. For lettin' me stay."

"Any time, lethellan." Theron replied and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze, standing up and letting his hands drop to his side. "If you can stomach the thought of food, then follow me. They're serving lunch in the mess hall for the soldiers off patrol."

She spent the rest of the day after lunch on tour of Vigil's keep, meeting the other Wardens that happened to be around at the time as well as some of the soldiers outside of the Grey Warden's order that protected Amaranthine. They did a short patrol around the outer walls before she was finally allowed to turn in, tired from the day's events. The next day was much the same, and Kallian began to notice the trend. Theron was doing everything in his power to keep her occupied. She was left with little time to dwell on what she'd run away from in Denerim, and a small part of her silently thanked him. Dwelling was not one of her favorite past times, and between attaching to patrols and sparring with either Theron or other willing participants, she found her days full of something besides dwelling to do.

Before she'd even realized it, a week had passed at the Keep, and now that she was recovered from the superficial wounds she had sustained during the Denerim Riot, Kallian was getting antsy. It was twilight, and she was walking the walls with Theron, the two sharing an easy silence as they walked along.

"I think I'm gonna head on to Highever tomorrow." She finally said, breaking the silence.

Theron didn't react immediately, instead seeming to think quietly to himself before speaking. "I'll come with you. Aedan's free leave from Orlais ends in another two weeks. I was going to have him come back to the Vigil before his leave ended, but I can accompany you to Highever instead."

Kallian looked at him out of the corner of her eye, then smiled to herself. "It's weird, you being in charge of Basher."

"One of the many benefits of being a Hero." Theron replied dryly, though it was with a small smile of his own. "I get to order around dispossessed nobility. Between Nathaniel and Aedan, I can hardly contain myself. Although I will admit; it is my goal to get one son of every major Ferelden noble family into my command."

Kallian's laugh echoed through the stone keep. "Didja just make a joke? I never knew you had it in you." She shot him a devilish grin to which the Dale responded in full with one of his own, and the quiet companionable silence returned for a moment. "Shianni really appreciated it, you know." Kallian said, her voice gone somber. "The two of you workin' together in the Landsmeet, I mean. She had it rough, but she loved it. Up until the end, anyway. She thought that there could be real change for once, an' you helped."

Theron inclined his head slightly. "Before I met you, I never would have imagined myself trying to help the elves of the city in any way, save if they came to my clan of their own free will. You are remarkable that way, lethellan."

Kallian's answering smile was timid and she clasped her hands behind her back to keep from fidgeting nervously. "Thanks, I think. I didn't do much. Just punched you in the face a couple'a times."

His laugh caught her off guard. "Yes, well, that does seem to be the most common reaction I get out of women." Their patrol had come to an end, the two standing in front of the large doors that would lead to the main hall of the Keep. "If you are not up at dawn, then I will come wake you. We'd best be off as quickly as possible tomorrow."

She nodded her understanding, pushing open the door and letting herself inside, Theron following along shortly after. "I'll see you at dawn, then." The two went their separate ways, Theron to find either Nathaniel or Oghren and alert them that the Keep would be in their capable hands while he was gone, and Kallian back to her room to ponder everything that the Warden had said.

•º•.•º•

The next day she found herself in the company of not only the Warden, but his dog as well. Falonfen seemed overjoyed to see her again and she got the traditional Mabari greeting from him. Falonfen had knocked her over, pinned her to the ground, and was laying waste to her face with his big slobbery tongue, stubby tail wagging all the while. Eventually Theron came to save her, his usual grim mask of duty cracked by a small grin.

"Stop looking so smug." Kallian grouched, getting herself up and wiping her face on both her sleeves, but still felt a bit sticky. And smelly.

"I don't know what you're talking about, lethellan." Theron replied in a neutral tone, though the smile was not gone from his face as he stroked the big mabari on the head.

She shot him an unamused glare and was about to let Theron know exactly what she thought of his smug attitude when Nathaniel interrupted them.

"Commander." The human Warden dropped a respectful nod in Theron's direction, sparing Kallian a quick searching glance. "The others have been informed. They all wanted to wish you a safe journey."

"Thank you, Nathaniel." Theron replied with a returning nod. "Make sure that Oghren doesn't drink himself dead. I'll be back in a week or so."

A ghost of a smile twitched at Nathaniel's lips at that and dipped his head once. "Of course, Commander. See you in a week."

Goodbyes exchanged, Theron escorted Kallian outside the walls, and then the two elves were out on the road alone together. Most of the time Theron talked about life at the Keep and Kallian listened without comment, partially lost in her own world. When the sky began to darken she kept herself busy with setting up camp, silently dreading having to put down for the night. Keeping her mind off things was easy enough when she was awake, but the nightmares were another story, and seemingly unavoidable. She ate in silence, Theron watching her like a hawk the whole time, and the two shared an uneasy quiet around the fire afterwards, Falonfen curled up near the woods and snoring quietly.

"Hey, Theron, do you ever jus' sit an' wonder _What If?_" Kallian asked when she could finally bear it no more, her head tipped back to look at the stars.

Theron tried to catch her eye, but Kallian would not look at him. "I wondered that almost every day in the beginning." He replied quietly, turning his gaze to the fire instead and draped his arms across his raised knee. "But in all my wondering, I've come to find that wishing does not have the power to change the past."

Kallian closed her eyes and suddenly flopped backwards, her arms spread out on the grass. "Yeah, I guess. There are a lotta things that I wish wouldn'tve happened if I could just un-make 'em." She fell silent then, the sounds of the night and the crackling of the fire the only noise to be had.

"Long ago, when elves were immortal, they would choose to enter the long sleep. It was not death as we know it, but it was treated as such for the eldest of the race who went into an endless dream. Uthenera." Theron said idly, looking away from the fire to meet Kallian's curious gaze. "That was before the shemlen, too. But then when the quicklings came and the Elvhenan of old intermingled with them, our lives grew short. Uthenera is no longer an option for our race, but I like to think that one day, when I die, I will wake up beside those who went before me, as if from a dream."

"That's sort of sweet." Kallian mumbled, lacing her hands over her stomach and closed her eyes. "I just… didn't want it to end like this."

"Then do not think of it as an end." Theron replied, turning away from the fire completely. "Perhaps it is the beginning."

Kallian was quiet, then drew herself up into a sitting position. "A beginning, huh?"

"Yes, another start. After Highever, come back to Amaranthine with me." As if reaching for a frightened animal, Theron took one of Kallian's hands and held it gently. "It is not easy starting over." He said quietly, tones of sincerity and sadness ringing in his voice. "But it is easier if you have someone there with you when you feel most alone. I had Alistair, even though I think I was comforting _him_ most of the time. I will be there for you, lethellan, if you let me."

Kallian's gaze was searching as she quietly appraised Theron, then she took her hand back and stood, walking next to the fire. She could feel Theron's eyes on her back but she didn't turn to make eye contact. Instead she worked at the knots of the red gloves on her hands, taking both off and holding them in her palms, the scars of her wrists silvery in the firelight. "A new start…" She mumbled to herself, and then tossed the two wrist guards into the campfire.

Once the material caught, it burned quickly, the thin fabric rapidly eaten by the voracious fire. Kallian turned her back to the flames and sat down next to Theron so that their shoulders touched. She reached out until her fingers brushed the area on his arm where she knew the huge bite-shaped scar was and met his curious gaze with a surprising amount of conviction. "I'll come back to Amaranthine with you."

Theron's answering smile was both surprised and relieved at the declaration. He was even more surprised when Kallian willingly leaned her head against him, cuddling against his shoulder. "We've had fun these past three years, right?" She asked quietly.

"If you call causing shemlen trouble fun, then yes." He replied with a slight smile and put his arm around her shoulders, drawing her close. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and made a small noise in her throat that sounded suspiciously like she was choking back on a sob. Theron dipped his head and quietly put a kiss on her temple. "I will protect you until you can hold your head high and smile earnestly again, lethellan." He whispered against her hair. "Until then, we can be each other's clan."

She shivered and nodded, tangling her fingers in the side of his shirt and blinked away the tears gathering on her lashes. "Thank you."

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><p><em>The city of Amaranthine had only started getting used to the idea of peace and tranquility when rumors of ghosts that would prowl the roofs at night began springing up in all corners of the Arling. Strange rumors of shadows in the night were on everyone's lips, and some even whispered that perhaps the rogue elf Kallian Tabris had something to do with it, but there was never any proof. Miraculously, despite the sudden apparent haunting of the city, the rate of crime plummeted almost over night.<em>

_With an elf as their Arl, the human citizens became uneasy and there were rumors time and again of a rebellion stirring among the people and the nobility. Other elves from all over Ferelden began to flock to the city however, hopeful that at the very least, having an elf in charge would make their lives easier. Under the merciful watch of The Hero of Ferelden, the city elves saw some justice denied to them in other cities. Some humans left, but those who stayed witnessed a transformation unlike anything that had ever occurred before. The elves, given more rights, used their vast pool of craftsmen skills to make Amaranthine a wealthy city, becoming a hub of trade in its own right._

_Though there was never an official wedding between Warden-Commander Mahariel and the mysterious Kallian, it was widely understood that there was no other woman that would turn the Hero's eye. When he suddenly disappeared, Amaranthine mourned the loss of its Arl, but continued on as always. Rumors put him in the Free Marches, seeking out his clan, but there was no word if he found them or not. Whatever the Warden-Commander's fate, Kallian shared it, following along as tightly as his shadow._

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><p>So, this one was a little bit of a mashup for what happens if you get a City Elf Warden, and the results of the various choices that you can make during the Boon sequence. Shianni did not become a Bann immediately in my version. This Epilogue takes place very close to the Qunari attack on Kirkwall (within a couple of weeks either before or after), and so a handful of years have elapsed since the end of the Blight. Shianni was only recently made a Bann in the court, like a few months to a year ago previous to this Epilogue, and so tensions were running high already when the food shortage happened and the riot in Denerim occurred. There is no happy ending for the elf Banns of Denerim, unless it is the Warden that takes the title. So, Viola. Sad unhappiness for poor Kalli, followed by an excellent example of how she's the hardest character to romance, and why poor Ther-bear has been having such a rough time despite blatant flirting.<p>

And that, my friends, is the end! I hope you enjoyed the ride, because I certainly did! For those of you who watch me as an author, be on the look out for the alternate endings of Heirs of Honor, which I'll publish separately to this story. My heartfelt thanks go out to everyone who reviewed, watched, favorited or simply looked at this story. I really couldn't have done with without your guy's support, and it meant a lot to me and really inspired me to keep writing despite life, writer's block, and whatever else kept me from updating. And now onward to DA3, yes?

**P.S.** I have a story in the works right now that follows Derik and his adventures after the Blight. The first chapters of that will probably start appearing in a couple of weeks. Due to it's nature, it will be M rated. So, anyway, end of the announcements.


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